Lúthien
by Cerulean Sage
Summary: Slightly AU. A story about a human girl with a connection to nature and the elves. True to the basic storyline of LOTR, except with my character along for the ride. Romance somehow blooms while running and fighting for their lives. No slash.
1. Chapter 1 Revised

As all other days, this day was beautiful. Whether is was sunny and warm or storming with force, Lúthien adored nature in all its wonders. She always felt a strong connection with it. She loved life, not hers specifically, but the life that was all around. Her mother had said it was her womanly instincts that made her so zealous about creating and nurturing life the way she did. Whenever Lúthien found a sick or injured animal, she would care for it until it was in full health. She tended the gardens, which was one of her responsibilities, but she did so with great care and pride. She tended the horses as well, much to her own delight. It was well-known she had a way with plants and animals, so whenever an animal was ill or crops were poor, the village turned to her for help. Some said that her touch alone could breathe life into the sick, injured, or dying. She had even been known to nurse people back to health who had been on death's door. Though she was happy to help others, her real calling was nature.

Her parents had thought of her as a gift from Valar. They had tried for many years to have children of their own, but could not. When it neared the time when Edel, Lúthien's mother, was coming of the age when she would no longer be able to bear children, a wonderful thing occurred. A small group of elves had been passing through their town on their way to an elfin city. Seeing an elfin maid among them, and knowing they were an old and wise race, Edel ran to the maiden. Edel pleaded her story to the slightly surprised elfin maid and begged for her advice. To Edel's and the elf maiden's companions' surprise, the maiden dismounted her horse and told her fellow elves she would remain with the woman until she had given birth. The shocked company continued their journey without the elf maiden.

Aden, Lúthien's father, upon hearing the elf would help his wife bear a child, devoted much of his time and energy catering to the elf maiden and his wife. The she-elf was indeed a strikingly beautiful woman. Her long, dark brown hair fell in waves down her back, her crystalline blue eyes sparkled in any light, and her porcelain skin was flawless and seemed to almost glow. Her name was Arwen.

Arwen changed Edel's diet, ridding it of any and all meats. Aden protested to this somewhat, insisting Edel would need meat to help a baby grow and his wife remain strong. Arwen calmed his fears, with some help from Edel. After a week without meat, Arwen mixed several herbs together in a glass and told Edel to drink it. Edel drank the fragrant concoction with much delight. Then Arwen told Edel, with great tact, that she should be intimate with her husband that night.

Some weeks later, Edel became quite ill. Aden had been ready to blame Arwen, until she had told him that the illness was a sign that he was now a father. With that said, Aden began making immediate plans for celebration, though Arwen was quite specific that Edel should drink no ale until a year after the baby's birth. After Arwen explained that ale could damage or even kill the baby, Aden threw all the ale in his house directly out the window. Arwen laughed with good nature at his zeal and love for his wife and unborn child.

Many months passed and Edel grew quite large. Both Arwen and Aden saw to her every need. Aden made sure Edel was always comfortable and happy, while Arwen constantly monitored the health of mother and child. Around nine months after the elfin party had first passed through, they returned, searching for Arwen. When they learned the baby was not yet born, but would soon be, they camped outside Edel and Aden's home, waiting for that day.  
Then came the night when Aden was sent out and women were sent for. Aden rushed to gather family while Edel's strangled cries rang out into the night. Many people waited out in the night, elf and man alike. When the house fell silent, everyone began to fidget with nervous anticipation. And when straining ears heard the soft cries of a baby, cheers went up all around. Edel and Aden's families and Arwen's companions stood ready to rush the door. When it finally opened, dozens eagerly filed in to see the child.

Edel laid in the bed, sweaty and slightly pale, but looking unbelievably happy as she held a small bundle in her arms. Everyone crowded around as Arwen pulled the soft fabric away from the baby's face. Many noises of approval and adoration were made as the tiny cherub face was revealed. The elves, especially, were joyous since birth was so rare for them. Elfin women were rarely fertile for the fact that they lived so long. While human females were fertile every month or so, it could be decades, even centuries before an elvish female became fertile.  
There was much hand shaking, congratulating, and passing of the baby throughout the night. One of the elves, a soldier who had seen many battles, became elated when, while holding the child, it opened its eyes.

"He opened his eyes! Come see!" the soldier exclaimed excitedly, barely remembering to speak in Westron.

"She." Arwen commented, as she gathered around the child with everyone else.

"I have a daughter?" Aden asked, smiling. Arwen nodded. Aden's smile broadened. "In that case, I can't wait to spoil her rotten." He said laughingly.

Everyone laughed at that comment before Edel's aunt asked, "What will you name her?"

"Name her after mother, Aden." Aden's brother said.

"No. Name her in honor of Arwen." One of the elves said.

Suddenly, there was much arguing over what to name the child. Everyone, save Arwen and Edel, was so caught up in their debate that they took no notice of Arwen as she took the child and carried her over to her mother. Edel held onto the baby as Arwen looked onto the child's cherub face and shining grey eyes.

"She will grow into a true beauty." She commented.

Edel smiled up at Arwen. "Yes, she will." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Will you think of a name for her in your language? Something special."

Arwen began to speak. "There was once an elf maiden who was said to be the most beautiful of all elves. Her name, to this day, remains synonymous with beauty. Her name was Lúthien."

"I will call her Lúthien, then, for the beauty she will someday become. And I will give her a second name, Arwen, to honor you for giving me such a precious gift." She said, Arwen smiling down at her. "I have decided." Edel said, loud enough for everyone to hear above the arguing. The room fell silent and all eyes were on her. "Her name will be Lúthien Arwen, for her beauty and the person who made her life possible."

"Lúthien Arwen." Aden tested. "That will do quite nicely."

The room buzzed with murmurs of agreement.

Lúthien smiled, breathing deeply as the sun warmed her face and a slight breeze played across her pale skin. The shift of her knee-length, dark chestnut brown hair was almost unperceptive in the fair breeze. She fiddled with the ends of her hair, which was coiled in her lap, as she sat. She looked out across the field, her long, lush lashes shielding her eyes from the bright sun. Her full, rounded lips pursed as she considered many black specks on the eastern horizon. Riders, no doubt on their way to something very important. She ignored their distant approach and smiled as a new breeze tickled across her face. She began to braid her hair.

Lúthien was a beauty of beauties. Arwen was considered to be the most beautiful of her kind, but Lúthien's beauty was almost unnatural, even by elf standards. Her father had said her looks were due to elfin magic, since she looked almost nothing like either of her parents. Her mother had chocolate brown eyes and sandy brown hair, while her father had brown eyes as well and hair the color of rust.

Although her mother had been considered a true beauty in her prime, Lúthien still shone like a candle in the dead of night. She had the affections of many men from the ages of 12 and 13 all the way up to men 3 times her age. Despite this, she was still available, even though she was well over the age when other women would marry and start families. Truth be told, she just wasn't interested. Although she someday wanted a family, she simply could not see herself with any of the men she had met. She knew they did not understand her feelings towards life and nature, and honestly didn't care. She had realized years ago that their only interest in her was what they saw, not who she was. The only people who truly understood her were her parents, so she was perfectly happy to devote all her love to them. She felt inside her heart that the one she was meant for was out there, somewhere, but at 19 years of age, she was already considered middle aged.

She sighed as she finished her braid, tying it off with a ribbon, and looked up towards the horizon once more. The riders from before had gotten considerably closer, and were much greater in number than she had originally thought. She squinted her eyes, straining to make out the riders in the distance, who were making remarkable time towards their destination. A sudden gust of wind began to whip around her, almost as if in a rage at the approaching riders. An unexplainable fear sent a chill through her. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. It was as if the wind whispered words of unspeakable horrors that she could not possibly conceive. Lúthien stood and hesitated. Never before had she felt such a feeling. The wind blew again, harsher than before, intensifying her fear until she could think to do only one thing. Run.

She turned tail, lifting her dress, and ran south towards her village in the distance. The wind beat against her back as she ran, seemingly encouraging her to run faster, so she did. She ran quickly, a sharp pain beginning to tighten in her side, and still she raced on. Swifter than she had ever ran before, she made her way towards the village, the swanfleet marsh directly behind her. Her legs began to burn as she pressed onward. Soon she could no longer deny the intense burning as she felt her strength wane. Just as she thought she'd never made it, and her legs felt ready to buckle beneath her, she gained her second wind. The burning in her legs faded, the stinging in her side lessened, and she felt a second burst of energy flow through her. It almost felt as if she hadn't been running much at all. Thankful for the reprieve, she continued her sprint, running as fast as her legs could carry her.

She soon was close enough to see people walking around town. She did not know how far the riders were, but she dared not look back. For some reason, she felt that those riders were what she feared. She had to warn everyone. Something fearsome was coming. Something dangerous. Something evil.

As she entered town, she began to yell as loud as her gasping lungs would allow. "Run! Run for your lives! Something is coming!" she hollered to the stunned villagers, never stopping to see if they heeded her warning.

She continued running, warning villagers as she went, until she came upon her house, at last. She burst through the door in an instant, startling her mother and father.

"Lúthien! What is the matter, child?" asked her very concerned father, staring wide-eyed at his breathless daughter.

"Something is coming." she gasped. "We must flee!"

"What possible thing could startle you so, Lúthien Arwen?" Her mother asked.

"I do not know what it is, though I know it is evil. I feel it deep within me, like an icy hand gripping my heart."

Her mother and father exchanged glances before rising.

"I will pack provisions." Her mother said.

"And I will saddle the horses." Her father said.

"Please, make haste. I do not think we have much time."

Her mother and father exchanged another quick glance and a nod to their daughter before rushing to complete their tasks. Even if they did not believe Lúthien, they would not be so foolish as to ignore her fears. Should something truly be wrong, they would be ready. Should it be nothing, they will have lost nothing in humoring their daughter's upset.  
Minutes later Edel entered carrying travel sacs.

"I've packed enough food for a week or so." Edel said, looking to her daughter. "We should pack blankets and spare clothes."

"The horses are ready for riding." Aden said, entering from outside.

"We're almost through packing, father." Lúthien said, noticing her mother had already moved off to get the blankets and clothes.

"Lúthien," Aden said, placing his hands on her shoulders, "go on outside and put those travel sacs on the horses." He said, motioning to the bags on the floor.

"Yes, father, but where are you going?" She asked, concern evident in her voice.

"I'm going to help your mother. I'll be right out. I promise." He said, looking into her eyes.

Lúthien nodded, grabbed 2 of the 3 bags, and headed out. Aden walked into the room he shared with Edel, a frown playing on his face.

"What is wrong? You look troubled."

"I hate to lying to Lúthien," he said, pulling a sword from under their bed, "but I can't tell her I'm bringing this in case we truly are in danger. You know how she feels about killing."

Edel smiled warmly. "Yes. Indeed, our daughter has a compassionate heart." she said, watching Aden slip his sword in the bottom of the bag before placing clothes and blankets on top. "We raised her with so much love. You do not think we raised her with so much love that we blinded her to the fact that sometimes killing is a necessity, do you?"

"Never. We raised our girl into a perfect lady." Aden said, hugging his wife close.

"Mother! Father!"

Lúthien's sharp cry called from outside. Edel and Aden broke apart and hurried outside, Aden grabbing the last travel bag as he passed. They reached the door to find Lúthien standing near the horses, stopped in her motion as if her body had turned to stone. They followed her gaze towards the horizon to see a black fog racing towards town. It took only a moment for them to realize the fog was a large group of riders.

"I didn't expect them to be this close this fast." Lúthien said, her voice shaking with fear. She looked at the other villagers, who were all turning their gaze toward the approaching riders. It appeared that no one had made any efforts to make an escape. "Are you fools?" she yelled, her voice course with fear and worry. "Gather your families, get on your horses, and run for your lives! Can you not tell something is terribly wrong?"

"Lúthien. Edel. Get on your horses."

The calm in Aden's voice was strained and sent shivers down Lúthien's spine. She had never heard her father speak in such a tone. With out questioning his reasons, they climbed wordlessly onto their horses.

"Now, ride." He said, turning his horse away from the riders.

"But father..." Lúthien began, looking back on the other villagers with great concern.

"I said ride!" His voice bellowed, leaving no room for further argument.

Lúthien was stunned. Her father had never spoken to her in such tones. However afraid she had been before, she was many times more frightened, now. In an instant, they were riding away from the village. She rode up beside her father.

"What is it, father? What upset you so?" she asked, her delicate brows furrowing in concern. Her father looked to her, and Lúthien was surprised to see such fear in his eyes. She had never seen her father afraid.

"Those were no horses those men were riding, and those were no men upon them." He said, his voice cracking slightly.

While Lúthien had been addressing the villagers, Aden had been straining to make out the approaching riders. What he saw made his blood run cold. Though he did not know what to call what he saw, Lúthien would soon learn for herself. They were not men, or even elves, on horses. They were orcs on wargs.

Cerulean Sage

"Let me see... that would be the first chapter. I figured I'd just clear up a few things. Back in the 'olden days' life expectancies were short. Very few people were expected to live long beyond 40 years of age, so any time from about 15 to 20, you were considered to already be middle aged. What a hassle. I couldn't imagine having a mid-life crisis while still going through puberty. Also, I don't know much Elvish, so instead of attempting to make my characters speak elvish, failing miserably, and embarrassing myself, I'm just going to have the elvish speech in italics or something. Also, I'm unsure whether I want both Lúthien's parents to make it to safety, or Aden to die defending Lúthien and her mother. I think the story would play a little better if both survived, but it would add more drama and suspense if he died. Either way it would work out, which is why I'm deciding to let you, the reader, decide.

On another note, I'm trying to base this story strongly on a map of Middle Earth, not just doing guess work or making up random places and things. Swanfleet is an actual place on the map. The orcs came from the east because they traveled north through the western portion of the Fangorn forest, along the Dunland mountain range, and then east along River Gwathlo towards the village where Lúthien lives, which happens to be just south of Swanfleet. It's important to me to keep the story as true to LOTR as possible, and it's important to the story that it makes sense and I don't contradict myself. If my story is confusing, then it's not enjoyable for the reader, and if it's not enjoyable for the reader, then I'm just wasting my time. That is why I put in the extra effort to make my story better. Do it well, or don't do it at all."


	2. Chapter 2 Revised

Lúthien and her parents stood on a far away hill, barely close enough to make out the village and its people. They watched in complete shock as the strange riders neared the village, and the people finally began to understand the danger they were in. Lúthien could see the people, barely anything more than specks, begin to rush about in fear. The three watched in horror as the riders reached the village and faint screams of terror reached their ears. With in a minute, one house had been set ablaze, followed by another, and soon a third.

"We must help them!" she said, her eyes wise with fright as she turned her horse as if preparing to race back to the village. In a moment's notice, her father had raced his horse in front of her, barring her path.

"We can do nothing to save them." He said grimly. "There is nothing we can do. If we went back, now, we would die as well."

Lúthien's face went white. Inside she knew those people were dying, but she had been in denial, refusing to accept it. Now that her father had come right out and confirmed her fears, she could no longer ignore the truth. She hung her head as the tears began to fall. Aden hurt to see his daughter cry, but knew there was nothing he could do. If he did not have to be so strong for his family's sake, he would be crying as well. He knew that his own nieces, nephews, brothers, and cousins were all dying as the moments passed by. He knew that he could do nothing to save them, though he could still save his wife and child. To do that, he knew he had to be strong. He frowned deeply as he realized the screaming had all but stopped and nearly the entire village was up in flames. That meant that they were almost through, and that those murderous riders would soon be wandering these hillsides. There was a great chance they'd be caught if they continued to linger much longer. Aden turned to the last of his family. Lúthien and Edel were both weeping. They had all lost loved ones this day. He refused to lose anyone else he loved, especially Lúthien. She was his treasure, his pride and joy, and he'd sooner die a thousand deaths than see her harmed.

"Come. We must ride on to Rohan. It's the closest guarded city. We'll be safe there as long as king Theoden still lives."

"Rohan is nearly a week's journey from here, my love. Will we be able to make it there with out being caught?" Edel asked, worrying about what would happen if they were caught by the orcs before they reached safety.

"We must try." He said, turning his horse in the direction of Rohan.

They all spurred their horses onward. They raced over grassy meadows, traveling as fast as their horses could race with out tiring. They rode a full day, only stopping at small streams long enough to let their horses hydrate and recover some of their strength. By dusk, they happened upon another small stream. They had not seen anything to indicate they were being followed all day, so they decided to stop and rest for the night. They dismounted, and Lúthien's parents began to prepare their beds and a meal to eat before turning in for the night. Lúthien had decided to forage for food, wanting to make their provisions last as long as possible should something unexpected occur, and also wanting to find treats for the horses for bearing them thus far. With out the horses, they would most likely be caught by now, and Lúthien felt they deserved a reward.

Shortly after nightfall, Lúthien returned with a bundle in her arms. "There was not much to find near us, but the further down stream I went, the more delightful treats I found." She said, opening her sac. "Look, mother. Wild berries." She said, handing her mother and father a handful each. "And corn nuts for the horses." she said merrily.

She was not sure why they were called corn nuts. They did not resemble corn at all, but she shrugged it off as she approached the horses. The horses, noticing her walking to them, gathered in front of her. They always seemed to know when she had something tasty for them. She sat in the grass, now, and laid the cloth out in front of her. She had already eaten her share of berries and roots, and would eat a bit of bread to finish her meal. Lúthien could not stand to eat meat. The sight of it turned her stomach, and the sight of someone eating it caused her to retch. She could not bring herself to eat meat. Eating meat would mean the animal would have to be dead. That meant that by eating meat, she was inevitably eating death. The moment the animal's life ends, it's flesh begins to rot. In her eyes, there could be nothing more disgusting. Her parents knew all too well her aversion to meat, and so never ate any in her presence. While Lúthien had been foraging, they had eaten the dried meat they brought first, not wanting Lúthien to come back and see them eating it.

Lúthien smiled as she realized how fortunate she was to have such understanding and loving parents, but her mood soon soured when she though of all the other family she had lost that day. One of the horses, as if sensing her change in mood, nudged her gently on the shoulder with his nose. Either that, or they were getting impatient waiting for their treats. Lúthien smiled and laughed warmly as she pushed his nose away.

"Alright, alright." She said, smiling. "I did not mean to keep you waiting."  
With that, she opened the cloth to reveal the wild berries, corn nuts, and a type of white root. People could eat the wild berries and the white roots, but not many found the roots were not very tasty. Lúthien liked them just fine. Though, corn nuts made people sick, they were a well liked treat for the horses. She began dividing the berries into 3 equal portions, then the nuts, and finally the roots. She first offered the roots to the horses, which she had washed in the stream before finding her way back to camp. They hesitated at first. Lúthien laughed slightly.

"I know you would much rather have the berries, but I will give them to you the sooner you eat these. They are very good for you."

She did not know what they were called, but she knew they could be eaten. Eating only vegetables and fruits, she had much time to experiment with different plants. There had been times she had found plants that tasted terrible and even plants that made her ill. In time, she learned what to avoid, and was now quite excellent at discerning the edible from the inedible. She watched with a motherly sort of pride as the horses began to eat the roots, almost as if they had understood her. There had been many time she wondered if they really did understand when she spoke to them. It almost seemed as if they truly did understand every word she spoke. Then again, she spent much time with them, learning to read their moods and body language. After some time, it almost felt as if she could read their thoughts, and vice versa.

While the horses had began to eat the roots, she began to pull the inedible parts off of the corn nuts. The horses finished only a minute or so before her. After she finished with the last nut, she gave them, too, to the horses. They ate them with greater joy, having them only rarely as a special treat. Lúthien watched the horses as they cracked the tough outer shell with their strong jaws, discarded the shells, and enjoyed the soft inside. She smiled at them in turn. She had been the one to name them.

Gregor was her father's stallion. He was an impressive beast. He had a shining black coat on one side. The other side was black as well, but had beige flecks throughout it. The flecks were only on his left flank, almost as if someone had separated one half from the other in a perfect line down the center. The flecks were sparse towards the front, and more concentrated in the back, almost as if Gregor ran so fast that the flecks were forced to the back. The flecks were even on his face, but only on his left half. Some of the flecks were even cut in half, almost as if they were not allowed to cross the center.

Lúthien looked to Morgain, her mother's horse. Morgain was a beautiful, chocolate brown mare. Morgain's coat was swirled with different shades of brown. She had a single streak of white from the top of her head, between her ears, to the tip of her tail at her rump. She was the oldest horse of the three, but the swiftest. Morgain was healthier than horses half her age, and Lúthien would have it no other way.

Finally came Lúthien's mare, Gilleth. Although Lúthien hated to favor one horse over another, she had to admit that Gilleth was the most beautiful horse she had ever seen. Gilleth was as white as snow, and almost seemed to glow in any light. She had black streaks over her eyes, which seemed to seep into her mane, turning it black as well. Her tail was black also. While her white coat seemed to glow like a star, her mane and tail almost seemed to glow black, absorbing light like the night. Her father said Gilleth had been a gift from Arwen. Lúthien had gotten Gilleth as a foal for her 10th birthday. They had grown up together, and were now both young adults. Her father had said that such a beautiful horse was only befitting of such a beautiful lady, causing Lúthien to blush furiously.

Lúthien noticed the horses had finished with their corn nuts and were now looking at her expectantly. She chuckled and pushed the cloth, which had 3 piles of berries on it, forward. She looked to her parents, who were beginning to settle down for the night, as the horses began to eat their respective pile. Her father had extinguished their small fire, and both had crawled into bed. Lúthien thought of Arwen and smiled. She couldn't remember a day when at least one of her parents did not praise Arwen in one form or another. She had never heard anything but wonderful things about Arwen since as long as she could remember. In fact, she had never heard her parents utter anything but good things about any elves. She had grown up to consider elves as friends, and Arwen as a second mother.

Lúthien sighed heavily. She was not tired, more like weary. A lot had happened that day. She had lost almost all of her family, lost her life-long home, fled for her life with barely anything more than the clothes on her back, and was now in the middle of nowhere with an uncertain future facing her. Her heart was heavy and her mind burdened. Never before had she experienced so much death. The thought made her feel ill to the pit of her soul. She would never forgive those people who had killed so many so needlessly. She couldn't think of a single reason that would drive those riders to slaughter her entire village, then burn it to the ground. Her village was peaceful. Lúthien frowned deeply. She was going to be troubled for a long time, and she knew it.

Standing resolutely, she decided she'd clear her mind and help herself become tired enough to sleep by washing and grooming the horses. The sun had set a while ago, so she set to work by the light from the half-full moon. Grabbing a small cloth from one of the travel bags, she lead the horses to the small stream and began her task. She mulled over the day's events, desperately trying to make sense of it all. After slightly more than an hour of running the same questions through her mind and finding no answers, she realized she would find none. At least for now, there was no explanation for what had happened. The horses were clean and brushed, thanks to her father's foresight to bring supplies for the horses. She pulled the horse hair from the brush, watching it waft away in the breeze. There was nothing left to do but crawl into her respective bed near her parents and let sleep take her. The horses soon went to sleep as well, settling down near the sleeping humans. So the night went.

A terrible feeling rushed through Lúthien, a horrible sort of panic. Her eyes flew open to see dark figures looming over her. They were horrid creatures, the things only nightmares can create. They were dark and twisted, terrible jagged teeth gleaming in the moonlight. She opened her mouth to scream, yet no sound came forth. They grabbed her, pulling and pushing her about. Again, she screamed in silence. She heard the horrifying tearing of clothes and flesh as pain ripped through her. They were killing her. She looked around in panic, searching for her parents. They were gone, as were the horses. She heard someone scream, only to realize it was her own. The pain began to fade. She was dying. Her vision changed. She was no longer seeing the terrible black creatures, stained with her blood. She saw a flaming eye, one of incomprehensible evil. Fear seared through her more intense than anything she could imagine, and she suddenly found herself wishing she was back with the black creatures. It watched her, boring into her very being. She could feel it tearing at her soul, corrupting it, destroying it. Then everything went black. Two words tickled at her mind, like a vague whisper from the blackness. Rivendel. Gandalf.

The fear returned, and her eyes opened wide. She shot up, the night air chilling the cold sweat on her face and body. Gilleth lifted her head, looking at her questioningly. She touched her body, feeling the places where the monsters had been tearing at her. She was not damaged, but she still hurt. She had dreamed it all, yet her pain and fear lingered. That dream was so real. Too real. And what of Rivendel? Who is Gandalf? Was that what she should fear? She shook her head. It was the eye that she needed to fear. Rivendel was an elvish city, she knew that much. There was no reason to fear the elves. Then the idea struck her that it might not have been a dream, but a warning. Perhaps she had to get to Rivendel, and find this Gandalf, or everything in her dream would come to pass.

Instantly, she was up and moving. The fear from the day her village attacked coursed through her. Her first act was to wake her parents. The dream may have been a warning, but her fear was real. Danger was coming, and it was coming for them.

"Mother. Father." She whispered, shaking them in turn. "Wake up."

The woke up disorientated, sleep clouding their senses.

"What is going on?" Edel asked, her voice coarse with sleep.

"Something is coming."

Upon her words, her parents truly awoke, all thoughts and feelings of sleep long gone. They were up, racing about, picking up all their belongings, and rushing to leave in silent fear. Lúthien roused the horses as her parents packed the last of their items. As they were attaching the travel bags to the horses' saddles, Lúthien spoke up.

"I must go to Rivendel."

"What?" Her father asked incredulously.

"I must go to Rivendel." She repeated. "I fear terrible things will happen if I do not."

"No. I refuse to let you travel to Rivendel. You could be caught by those riders. You will come to Rohan with us."

"No, father. I must go to Rivendel."

Lúthien's father was about to speak in protest until Edel placed her hand upon his shoulder, silencing him.

"If you do not make it safely to Rivendel, I will never forgive you." Edel said, her voice somber and calm.

Lúthien smiled and nodded. "I promise to be safe."

Her mother smiled as well. "Your father and I will continue on to Rohan. We will be waiting for you there."

Lúthien ran to embrace her mother and father. Tears began to form. She had never had to leave her parents before. Sure, she had been away from them, but this was not the same. Before, she could have gone to them if she wanted to. Now she had no choice. Her father gently pushed her away to allow Edel to hold her. As his wife and child were holding each other, he walked to Gregor and reached into the travel sac he carried. Pulling out his sword, he walked back to Lúthien and held it to her. He ignored the look of shock in her eyes.

"I want you to take this, and defend yourself with it should the need arise. I will forbid you to leave for Rivendel, otherwise. Promise me."

Lúthien lowered her head. "I promise." she said faintly.

"Look at me and promise!" He commanded.

"I promise." She said, lifting her head and speaking firmly.

Aden handed her the sword. "And I will hold you to that promise."

Lúthien's eyes widened. It seemed as if the very air around her was squeezing her. The danger was getting closer. Her fear was making it hard to breath. They had to leave immediately.

"You must go, now." She said, running to her horse. "If we linger any longer, we will be in grave danger."

She mounted Gilleth, watching her parents mount Gregor and Morgain. They paused to look at each other for a moment or two, her parents turned south to Rohan, while she faced north to Rivendel. Knowing the extent of the danger they were all in, Lúthien spurred Gilleth on. Her parents followed suit. They grew father apart as the moments passed. Lúthien looked back to see her parents once more. In the light of the half moon, she watched as they drew out of sight. She sighed resolutely as she strapped her father's sword around her waist. Her fear was getting worse, and she knew she was heading into the mouth of the monster. She was backtracking directly into the path of the riders. She silently began hoping against all hope that she could keep her promise and make it to Rivendel alive.

Cerulean Sage

"Second chapter is done. Before I begin explaining anything else, I'd like to make reference to a comment I received on my story. I grew quite irritated when my first comment was an ignorant one, insulting my story. I have no idea how someone can have the audacity to read ONE chapter of my story, assume they know how the entire story plays out, and then insult me and my story. In case some of you have forgotten, this is a fanfic. The idea of a fanfic is to take someone's original story, and then add your own ideas into said story. As I said, I am trying to remain very close to Tolkien's original story, using maps, the books, and the movies as reference. The difference is that I am making my own changes. If I made no changes to the story and wrote about it, I'd be sued for a little thing called copyright infringement.

Also, I know about the original Lúthien. That is one reason why my character's full first name is not Lúthien, but Lúthien Arwen. Adding to that, I fully intend to weave the story and ideas of the original Lúthien into my story so that my Lúthien and the original Lúthien have similar, but not identical, fates and traits. Furthermore, my character is not a Lúthien clone, decedent, or descendant. In fact, she is in no way, shape, or form related to Lúthien. The only similarities are some of their looks, some characteristics, and some fate. Lúthien was an elf. Lúthien Arwen is human, but they will show similarities.

Basically, as I said before, swallow before you speak. You may know everything there is to know about Tolkien's LOTR, but this is MY story. You do NOT know what is going to happen, so don't assume you do, and start flapping your gums. You'll make a fool of yourself before you make a fool of me.

Onto normal topics, think of a corn nut as an acorn. As for the white root, think of a parsnip. Also, when I was describing Gregor's fur, it is completely possible to have fur like that. My cat is black, but only has color on one side. The color is split perfectly down the middle, and it kind of reminds me of Two-Face from Batman. I think it looks really cool and decided I'd give one of the horses the half-and-half look.

Gilleth means star in elvish (Thank you Kerla and AmberRose). She will play an important role in the story, especially being an elvish horse. Aren't elvish horses supposed to be close descendants of Meares, or is that just Shadowfax? Feel free to correct me if you know for sure. Speaking of Shadowfax, he's not even considered to be an important character, or even a character, by a lot of people. I'll tell you this. If Gandalf did not have Shadowfax, he definitely wouldn't have been able to pull off that 'just in the nick of time' stuff.

Also, an apology for Cera for getting your name wrong in the Review Board. I thought it was Cela. To answer your question Kerla, to get my elfin names, I used an elvish name generator. It's a lot better than if I simply made the names up, myself. I had a lot of hilarious results with one. According to the Middle Earth Multi-Generator, my mother is an Inbred Elf. I found that hilarious. According to the Middle Earth Multi-Generator, I'm a Powerful Elf. Who would have thought?

One final thing. I didn't get any reviews about what to do about Aden, so I just decided on my own. I wasn't going to wait forever."


	3. Chapter 3 Revised

Although her fear was growing, Lúthien rode on, knowing full well she was in great danger of being spotted. She wasn't sure what she'd do if she was seen, but she hoped she could simply outride them. It wasn't long before she spotted the source of her fear. Even though it was night, the moon shone with enough light to allow her to see the approaching riders. Lúthien frowned. So they had been trailing her and her parents. They were clever murderers. They had kept their distance during the day, giving no indication that they were stalking her and her parents. Then when night fell, they closed the distance, attacking when she and her parents were vulnerable and unsuspecting in slumber. Lúthien found herself growing angry at how malicious and callous they were. Then she thought of her parents. She couldn't allow them to continue tracking her parents. Now that she wasn't with them, she couldn't warn them when danger was near. She would have regret her decision to leave them if it were not for the fact that she could lead the riders away from her parents' trail. She would expose herself to the riders, then lead them as far away as possible.

With a deep breath, she prepared for what she was about to do.

"We are going into danger, Gilleth. Let us hope we can be safe."

Gilleth's ears shifted back, as if she was taking in what Lúthien had said. Lúthien leaned forward as she and the riders drew closer to each other, pressing herself against the back of Gilleth's neck. She heard a few excited shouts from the riders. They spotted her. There was no backing out, now. Out of her fear seemed to grow a numb sense of inevitability. Her fear faded away, leaving an emptiness in its place. The knowledge that she must face what was to come, and the concern for her parents' safety filled the emptiness with a courage she hadn't known she possessed. With a new vigor, she spurred Gilleth on, dashing forward with a blatant disregard for the apparent danger she was in. She stopped Gilleth in plain sight of all of them, rearing her up on her hind legs. She made sure every rider saw her, and that every rider knew she was challenging them. Gilleth whinnied, as if excited by their shared audacity. Gilleth's fur shone iridescently in the light of the half moon, making horse and rider seem to glow.

Angry shouts rippled throughout the group of riders. Lúthien smirked. They knew she was challenging them, and they were angry about it, too. She was shocked to see the creatures they rode. Though it was dark, she still knew they were nothing she had ever seen. She had remembered her father's comment about how the riders' horses were not horses and the men who rode them were not men. She grimly wondered what she would see when morning came. They continued to charge forward, and she heard a command, most likely from their leader.

"Kill that elf! Do not let her escape!"

Lúthien was confused for only a moment before she remembered she was astride an elfin mare. So they thought she was an elf, eh? She smirked as she realized an elf challenging them was probably more insulting than some human girl. Her challenge most likely wouldn't have made the impact it did if they knew she was only a human, and she planned to take advantage of their mistake. She prompted Gilleth to run to the right. Her plan was simple. She would get around them, then continue her journey to Rivendel. They would pursue her for a while before giving up. Gilleth had incredible stamina, and could run for many hours with out tiring. By then, she would have made a good distance between her parents and the riders. She would lead them on as long as she could.

As she raced westward, the riders to her back, she heard something wiz by to her right side. Then another passed just overhead. She realized they were arrows. It was a good thing it was nighttime and none of them seemed to be very good archers, otherwise she'd be in a lot of trouble. She changed Gilleth's direction, heading in a northwesterly direction, making sure to keep the riders to her back. They hollered angrily, continuing to shower her with arrows. Lúthien was worried they might hit Gilleth, but so far all their arrows missed. As she changed her direction once more, heading north towards Rivendel, an arrow finally struck her. It nicked her right arm near the shoulder. She hissed in pain, realizing she had probably turned right into the arrow's path.

She touched it gingerly, looked at her bloody fingers, and grimaced. It didn't feel too bad, so it wasn't likely to be terminal, but it would most certainly need medical treatment. Her frown deepened as she realized the longer she lead the riders on, the longer her wound would go untreated. She had purposely paced Gilleth so that they were always just out of the riders' reach. Gilleth could outdistance them easily, but if she did, they'd give up on her and go after her parents. Her only choice was to risk infection, or risk her parents' capture. The choice was easy. She rode on.

Hours passed, and the riders hounded her relentlessly. She would have admired their determination were they not cold-hearted murderers. She had allowed herself the occasional glance back, trying to make out her pursuers. She knew for sure those were no horses, but she could not make anything out about the riders except that they were dressed in dark clothing and armed. Both of those fact were already obvious from the day before. She would soon find out for sure, though. The sun was beginning to rise. After the first sun's rays had illuminated the landscape, she looked back to see exactly what she was dealing with. What she saw was like nothing she had ever seen before. They were black, twisted creatures, riding atop horribly misshapen dogs. That was the only thing she could think to compare them to. No wonder her father had been so frightened.

With out realizing it, she had urged Gilleth to run faster, putting more distance between her and the riders. Recognizing her mistake, she slowed and looked back. The riders had stopped trailing her, and were not heading back to her parents. She had not given them enough time. They would not make it to Rohan with out being caught. Lúthien knew she needed to do something, but if she went back, obviously trying to get them to chase her, they'd know she was leading them on. She needed to do something, anything, to get them to chase her. She thought frantically for a moment before her hand fell to the hilt of her father's sword. She would attack them.

Fear surged through her again, before she pushed it back down. She stopped Gilleth and turned her around. Racing back towards the horrible creatures, she tried to stomach the queasy feeling inside her stomach. She had never hurt any living things, let alone kill. She might just do both, today, not considering she, herself, may die. She felt sick to her stomach, but she had no other choice. She wished she did. As the riders came back into view, she pulled the sword from its sheath. It was about 2 feet long from one tip of the blade to the other, and 3 inches wide along the base. It wasn't too heavy for her to wield. She tested it in her hand, getting used to its weight, all the while drawing closer to the riders. When she was almost in their hearing range, she spurred Gilleth on as fast as she could run. They raced directly into the center of the group as if both horse and rider had gone completely mad. A few of the riders noticed her just before she struck, barely having any chance to give any sort of warning.

She reached them, surging through the group, and striking out at anyone with in reach. The sickening feel of her sword cutting through flesh and striking against bone traveled through her arm from the sword. Lúthien tried to keep from vomiting. The dumbfounded group of riders scattered. Some riders she had injured cried out in pain, hunching over against their beasts. Others dropped to the ground, dead. Lúthien felt truly ill. She had killed a living creature this day. However, she had no time to reflect and mourn as she turned to charge back at them. She needed them to be following her northward, away from her parents. They were scrambling to draw their weapons. Most had already drawn their swords, but the archers were attempting to nock their arrows. Knowing she had no real swordsmanship skills, she knew her best chance of getting through was to attack the archers. The archers would also pose the most threat because of the fact that they could attack from a distance. Searching for her target, she found an opening, two archers who had yet to take aim. The two archers were far enough from the swordsmen that she could breeze by with out harm. Charging through, she struck them down.

The riders gave chase again, hollering curses at her back. Looking behind her, she saw an arrow heading straight for Gilleth's croup. With out thinking about what she was doing, she struck the arrow with her sword, effectively stopping it. Lúthien sighed with relief. She was extremely lucky she didn't miss. If she had, Gilleth may have been too injured to outrun the enraged riders. Then she would have really been in trouble. Now that their chase was renewed, it was only a matter of leading them on as long as possible, and then escaping before Gilleth became too tired to outrun them.

Hours more passed. Lúthien occasionally patted Gilleth and whispered kind words to her. While she rode, she thought of the events of that day. She had killed a living creature, many to be precise. Some died immediately, other would probably die from the wounds she inflicted. She was a murdered, no different from those she ran from. Then she shook that thought from her head. Those creatures killed for no reason. She killed to save lives. Though, if you kill life to preserve life, does it really change who you are? Does it make you a better person, a worse person, or does it not make a difference what type of a person you are at all? Thinking like this didn't help her to feel better about what she did. Though, what she did was necessary, she would still mourn for the lives she took when she was able. Even if they were malicious killers, they still were alive. She took something precious from them, and though they didn't deserve it, she would repent for their deaths.

Midday was only a few hours away, and Lúthien could tell Gilleth was tiring. Speeding Gilleth faster, she quickly put distance between her and the riders. One thought nagged at her. Now that she had killed some of their comrades, they might be more determined to catch her. They might not give up the chase, as she once thought. Even though they rode beasts, they were just as prone to fatigue. They would have to stop and rest. This gave her a little margin of time when Gilleth could rest and recover. Lúthien looked around. She recognized this land. It was just east of her village. Lúthien shuddered. She did not want to think about yesterday. It was hard to believe so many horrible things could happen in so little time.

Shaking her mind of troubling matters, she decided to stop at the Gwathlo, let Gilleth regain enough strength to cross it, then camp at its northern bank for the night. They reached the river's edge less than half an hour later. Lúthien could tell Gilleth was exhausted. She led her to the water's edge to drink while she went to search through the travel bag Gilleth carried. Lúthien's eyed widened as she noticed the arrow sticking out of the sac.

"That was certainly a close shot, Gilleth." Lúthien said, pulling the arrow out and tossing it down. She opened the bag to examine its contents. "Just my luck." She pulled out the dried meat her parents had packed and tossed it to the ground. She searched around for a minute more. "Not a single vegetable. This bag has my mother's clothes, too." She shrugged. "Oh well. They'll fit."

She noticed the horses' supplies in the bag and smiled. At least she got something good. After the running Gilleth did, today, she deserved a good grooming. A good grooming for herself sounded good at that point. She was dirty, sweaty, and bloody. Remembering her wound, she pulled the right side of her dress off of her shoulder. Seeing the wound, she grimaced in disgust. Lúthien silently hoped that it would look better after being washed. She knelt at the water's edge and began cupping water onto the cut with her hand. Her frown faded into a smile. It wasn't as bad as she thought, though it was infected. It was a clean cut, and with the proper care, would heal quickly.

She began to wash out her wound, squinting in pain. The infection made it hurt worse than it would have if she had treated it sooner. No matter. She knew what plants grew in this area, and that some helped to help infection. Tearing a clean looking strip from her dress, she wound it around the wound. She stood, stretching. She would have to find food for now, and perhaps the rest of the journey. She considered going back to her village to see if any of her garden survived, but quickly struck the idea from her mind. She would not be able to bear the carnage that she knew waited for her there. Banishing the thoughts of death and decay, she set out to forage. While Lúthien was away, Gilleth grazed, drank, and rested, regaining her strength for the next leg of their journey. She soon recovered much of her stamina.

It was well over an hour before Lúthien returned. She held the bottom of her dress to her chest, carrying a great deal of food. When she reached Gilleth, she opened the travel sac and began placing her find inside. When she had filled the emptied half of the food into the sac, she pulled out a fairly large cloth and closed the sac tight. She turned with a smile to Gilleth.

"The rest is for you, my dear friend. You were extraordinary today. Never, in all my life, could I imagine you were so brave." She said, laying the cloth on the ground with one hand while holding the food in the skirt of her dress with the other. When the cloth was laid on the ground, Lúthien spilled the contents of her dress onto it. "Eat all you please, however you see fit. You have earned all this and more."

Gilleth trotted over to the food, almost as if she held pride in every step. Remembering something, Lúthien reached to the food sharply, pulling back a spindly weed. She smiled sheepishly. "I almost forgot. This is for my wound. It would make you ill, my friend."  
Gilleth snorted in response before lowering her head to feast. Lúthien pet her head and mane for a few minutes before rising to her feet. Walking to the riverbed, she plucked out 2 flat stones. Plucking the sparse leaves from the weed she held, she began grinding them between the rocks. When she had a fine paste, she unwrapped the cloth on her wound just enough to expose it. She dipped her finger into the paste and touched it to her wound. She sighed in relief as the throbbing pain of her wound faded away. A satisfied smile spread over her lovely face as a pleasantly warming tingle traveled through her arm from her shoulder to the tips of her fingers. She wrapped her wound once more

Lúthien drew the sword from the sheath around her petit waist and snorted it disgust. It was covered in orc blood. She washed it thoroughly in the river, washing away the metallic smell of blood. Strange, though, that the blood was a blue-grey color. Still carrying the sword in her hand, she walked east. She had seen a specific reed that floated well in water. If she wanted dry supplies, she would need to make a sort of raft to ferry the supplies across the river with. Those reeds were perfect for the job. Cutting about twenty to thirty reeds approximately 5 feet in length, she carried her bundle back to where Gilleth waited for her. She immediately set to work, placing them together as a raft. She stopped fussing with it when she was satisfied that it was good enough and would not sink under the weight of her supplies.

With a sigh of futility, she began cutting lengthy strips from her dress. It was already torn and ripped beyond repair, and she had no rope. Plus she would not be able to cross the river with her dress the way it was. The long skirt would wrap around her legs as she swam and drown her. It would be hard enough fighting the fairly swift current with out fighting her clothing as well. She began to twine the strips of her dress around the reeds, securing them together. When she was finished, she looked with satisfaction at her raft, and with dismay at her dress. Her skirt now rose well beyond her knees, reaching just above mid-thigh.

"It is a good things we ladies are the only ones present. I am positively indecent!" Lúthien laughed.

Gilleth nickered, evidently in on the humor of Lúthien's wardrobe. Lúthien put her hands to her hips and glared at Gilleth.

"I do not see why you would be laughing. You are naked!" Lúthien chided.

Gilleth simply continued to nicker. Lúthien's glare faded swiftly to be replaced with a grin. Lúthien grabbed Gilleth's lead and lifted the raft, bringing both to the water's edge.

"Come, my naked friend. We will make camp for the night once we reach the other side."

Gilleth snorted in response, rapping the ground with her hoof as if to show she was more than ready for the swim across.

Cerulean Sage

"Third chapter is done. I wanted to mention something I forgot in the last chapter. To picture Gilleth's eye markings, think of a raccoon's mask. It's sort of like that. I'm not really sure there's too much to discuss about this chapter. Everything is pretty much up front. Only thing I might want to mention is distance and timing. From the village just south of swanfleet, it's about 200 leagues to Rohan according to a scaled map of Middle Earth. 200 leagues maps out to be about 600 miles. At a pace of 15 miles per hours (so as not to drain the horses), traveling for 10 hours, they traveled about 150 miles. Those 10 hours do not include the rests they took. It was about midmorning when they fled, and late evening when they stopped. Lúthien woke from her dream about 3 in the morning. From around 3am to about 10am, she rode at a pace of 20 miles per hour, for about 7 hours. That equals out to be about 140 miles, plus the extra half hour or so of traveling to reach the Gwathlo. Her parents will continue to travel at a steady pace to Rohan. The extra 6 or so hours of traveling they did the night when the orcs came will help them reach Rohan in only 4 days, rather than 5.

Now there is at least a 300 mile distance between the orcs and Lúthien's parents. By nightfall, the distance will be even farther. Traveling at about 150 miles per day, they will reach safety before the orcs can catch up. I thought I'd mention this, because I will not talk about Aden and Edel's journey. Their journey is quite uneventful, so I don't plan to describe it in detail in the story. That is why I'm doing so, now. From the Gwathlo, it's about 600 miles to Rivendel.  
In this chapter, I wanted to delve a bit into Lúthien's thoughts about death and killing. This is the first time she has had to truly face it. I wanted to show that she respected life and mourned death, but also that she's mature enough to be able to come to terms with death and having to kill. It shows greater character to be able to deal with troubling issues rather than dwell upon them, run from them, or lie to yourself about them. I want to show the strength of her character by showing how well she deals with the quickly changing events of her life. In the beginning, she tried to lie to herself about the drastic changes in her life, but found she couldn't. She could have run from the orcs and her fear, but faced them and the obvious danger for the sake of her parents. Dealing with her regrets instead of letting her guilt consume her makes her mentally capable of dealing with the situation she is in.

All in all, I am trying to portray her as a very capable person, able to adapt to whatever changes she experiences. I don't mean to make her seem emotionally detached. I don't think I develop her character as much as I'd like to. It's just that I'd rather describe what is happening around her rather than within her, at least for now. When the story reaches the point where it joins with the original LOTR storyline, I can spend more time developing her character rather than the surroundings, seeing as how most people know how everything goes.  
One, final, comment. Review or I shall cry!"


	4. Chapter 4

Lúthien placed the reed raft on the bank of the river. She placed the supplies on top. Slipping off her shoes and placing them on top, as well, she slipped the raft into the water. Gilleth followed her in and they began their swim towards the northern shore. Lúthien held on to the raft and Gilleth's saddle as they swam through the coursing river. She could not deny Gilleth's awesome strength as she broke through the currents. She was an amazing horse, and they reached the shore with out any incident. They hadn't been swept down stream very far, either. Lúthien sometimes could not believe the resilient strength Gilleth possessed. Lúthien gripped the earth as she pushed the raft on land. Gilleth pulled herself out of the river with no real effort. If it were not for Gilleth, Lúthien would have been swept down river for miles. It was not hard to tell that she was a weak swimmer. In still water where the ground was only a few feet away at any given point, she was fine. When it came to deep moving waters, like that of a river, Lúthien could not hold her own.

She clambered on land and sighed in relief, her wet clothes clinging to her slender body. Laying on the grass in the late midday sun, she smiled up at Gilleth.

"You have saved my life more times this day than I could ever hope to repay in a lifetime. I would be lost with out you, my naked friend."

Gilleth nickered again, and Lúthien flopped her head back onto the grass. She closed her eyes, wanting very much to soak in the sun. Her body was fatigued and her mind was weary. The absence of sleep last night played havoc on her. The sun shimmered off her body, now very defined under her wet clothes. Her wet and mussed braid laid off to her side. Wisps of wet hair hung about her face, some clinging to her cheeks. Her slender neck lead down to narrow shoulders and delicate looking arms. Her rounded breasts were humble, though not small. Her petit waist arched into her cambering hips. Her hips were the only part of her that was not thin. They were wide and rounded. 'Perfect for bearing children.' her mother had said. Her long, shapely legs extended to tiny feet and cute little toes. Said toes wiggled in the tickle of the breeze. She was petite, but her body was lithe and slim, almost unnaturally so.

She opened her eyes with a sigh. "Though the idea of falling asleep here and now does sound appealing, there are still things to be done."

With that, she pushed herself to her feet. She walked to the makeshift raft and rummaged through the supplies. She pulled out the horse supplies. Her body was weary from lack of sleep, but she ignored it as she took Gilleth to the water's edge and began to groom her thoroughly. She talked to Gilleth about anything that came to mind. She mentioned her parents, the orcs she had killed, the journey they had made already and the journey ahead, her dream and the reason they were journeying to Rivendel, and about what would happen when things went back to normal, if ever. Gilleth had been a good listener, as always. She honestly seemed to understand whatever Lúthien said. Lúthien sometimes forgot Gilleth was a horse, talking to her as if she was another person. She certainly had a lot more respect for Gilleth than she did for a lot of people. Humans killed things for petty reasons, even other people. It was almost as if it was human nature to destroy. Lúthien could never understand human corruption, no matter how she tried. She supposed she never would.

Lúthien had finished talking by the time Gilleth was thoroughly groomed. Gilleth rested in the grass as Lúthien brushed her mane and tail in silence. Even after her tail and mane were smooth and knot free, she continued to brush. It was therapeutic for both of them, and it helped to sooth their spirits. The afternoon was half over by the time Lúthien stopped. She hadn't eaten all day, but she wasn't very hungry at the moment. The sun was warm, the breeze was fair, and the sound of rushing water made her weary body and mind cloudy with peace. The sun's rays played over her skin, warming her like a feather-light blanket. Lúthien crawled over and laid down against Gilleth's side. Gilleth regarded her serenely as she drifted off to sleep. Gilleth watched over her as the girl slumbered in contentment.

It was a few hours later when Lúthien awoke to the feeling of falling. She awoke with a start, flailing her arms as if to catch herself. A moment later, she realized she was sitting on solid earth. She realized Gilleth, who she had been leaning against in sleep, had stood up, causing her to wake with the sensation of falling. Lúthien eyed Gilleth in annoyance as she stood grazing a few feet away.

"You could have warned me."

Gilleth nickered, grass hanging from her mouth.

"Someday, my friend, I will do horrible things to you in your sleep."

Gilleth's nickering turned into merry throat noises, showing that Gilleth found this all very funny.

"I kid you not, my friend. I will do heinous things to you."

Gilleth's throat noises exploded into whinnies and snorts of merriment as she began prancing circles around Lúthien.

"Do not mock me!" Lúthien cried indignantly, standing with her fists against her hips. Gilleth continued. "You are a miserable friend!" Lúthien laughed. Gilleth stopped, forgive the pun, horsing around and trotted to Lúthien. She gave her a friendly nudge before pulling her ears back and snorting, implying that Lúthien smelled. "I do not stink! I do not know how I could love such a mean creature!" Lúthien said, folding her arms across her chest and turning her back to Gilleth. Gilleth let out a whicker. Lúthien turned her head, smiling. "Of course I love you. You are my best friend." Lúthien looked down at herself. "And as such, you are also entitled to a fair amount of blunt honesty. I am not my cleanest." Gilleth snorted in agreement. "I will bathe if you stand watch." Lúthien said, heading towards the water's edge.

Gilleth bobbed her head before walking to stand watch near where Lúthien began to undress. She stripped off her torn and dirty dress. Tossing it to the ground, she reached for the tie in her hair and pulled it out. Unbraiding her hair, she slipped into the water. She shivered in the chilled water, beginning to rinse her body and hair.

"What I would not give for soap." She sighed, trying to rinse all the oil from her hair. "I should strongly consider making some before I reach Rivendel." She commented to the vigilant Gilleth. "I'll be in the presence of elves. I should be well groomed."

Her stomach fluttered. All her life she had heard wonderful things about elves. Now she would be amongst hundreds. The thought frightened and excited her. What if they did not approve of her? What if she made a fool of herself? Her stomach began to twist in apprehension.

"Gilleth, what do you think the elves will be like? Do you remember anything about them?" Gilleth made various throat noises. "You are right. Though, I can not help but be nervous."

Lúthien climbed out of the river, her knee-length brown hair plastered to her back. She began to wring out her hair bit by bit. She left it down to dry in the sun for the few hours that were left. Walking to the supplies further from the bank, she pulled a fairly large cloth from the travel bag, drying herself and her hair. When her body was sufficiently dry, and the cloth sufficiently wet, she took out one of her mother's dresses. Draping the cloth on Gilleth's saddle next to the travel bag, Lúthien slipped into her mother's dress, with some effort. Her mother was a thin woman, almost too thin to seem healthy. Edel's clothes were almost Lúthien's size, if not a bit tight. It was a light brown dress with lighter brown trim. It made Lúthien's porcelain skin look even paler and accentuated her every curve. Lúthien fussed with it for a bit. It was fine around the waist, though a little tight around her chest. The worse part was it was too tight around her hips. It pressed uncomfortably against her sides.

With a final, frustrated tug, she left the dress alone and walked to the few personal items she had. Reaching into the travel bag, she pulled out a few vegetables and a fruit. Munching on them in nonchalance, she laid out the wet cloth she had used to dry herself with. Once it was dry, that would become her bed. A smile crept across her face as she thought of how versatile a simple piece of cloth could be. Lúthien began to get a sense of something coming. Gilleth, ever alert, whinnied in irritation. Lúthien noticed her agitated posture and followed the sense of danger across the river. She did not see anything, though assumed it was the orcs that had been trailing her for the past 2 days.. She watched for a time, but saw nothing. The wind was blowing from the south, and Lúthien realize Gilleth hadn't seen anything, but rather smelled it.

Lúthien was beginning to get a better understand and grasp of her ability to sense danger. She found that if she focused, she could pin point the source of the danger. She followed her sense as it grew stronger. Lúthien thought for a moment. Before, she could tell how close danger was and know by instinct when it was too close. If she could harness those instincts, she could tell the exact distance of danger. It would be a good ability to have, especially since she did not know how long these days of dark creatures would last. That thought sent shivers through her. What if things never went back to the way they were? What if all days would consist of fighting and fleeing for her life?

She forced the thought from her mind, focusing on her sense of danger. The source was certainly closer. Minding her sense, she turned her attention to other matters, like making soap. The day would be over in a matter of little more than an hour, two if she was lucky. She knew what plants grew on the other side of the Gwathlo. Hopefully, the same plants grew on this side. There was no reason for them not to. With that, she began her search. The first plant she came upon and collected was a strange looking weed. Its stem grew and split at various odd angles from bulbous growths. Its leaves were pointed, a glossy dark sage color on top, and rough underneath where the leaf was a light shade of jade. She unsheathed her father's sword and cut a few of the plants from near the base.

She mused how she had come to depend on, become comfortable with, and even begin to like this sword. It was fairly light and comfortable in her hand once she had gotten used to it. She sent a thanks and a prayer to her parents, wherever they were. Her attention returned back to the river. Her senses told her that the riders were fairly close. She may even be able to see them in a short while. Of course, they'd have to cross the river to reach her. That would mean she would have more than enough time to escape should it come to that. Even with Gilleth, the swim was arduous, and it had taken a considerable amount of time to cross it. She returned her attention to gathering the ingredients she'd need to make her soaps. She smiled, noticing a tree not too far away. Beneath it grew her favorite type flower. She loved to smell its sweet scent, which she could never seem to get enough of. She would love nothing more than to make her soap with them. Walking forward, she knelt down and began to pluck them from the ground. They were tiny, white bells, growing from sturdy green stems. Breathing in their scent, she sighed dreamily.

When she was young, she had fallen in love with their scent, and had asked her mother to make soaps from their flowers. She had loved the smell so much that she had planted them all through her garden. When they would bloom, she collected as much as she dared, and made plenty of soaps and even perfume. Many people had come to associate her with the wonderful fragrance of those tiny lilies. Opening her eyes, she felt much more at peace. The scent of those flowers always reminded her of her home, her childhood, and happier days. Holding the flowers delicately, she walked back to where Gilleth stood near the travel sac. She was on edge, obviously unnerved by the approaching riders. Lúthien patted Gilleth soothingly as she tucked the bulbous weed stems and fragrant lilies into the bag.

"I know they're coming, my friend. Do not worry. We will be well on our way before they ever make it across the river."

Gilleth visibly relaxed somewhat, returning to her grazing, though still a bit on her guard. The smell of those beasts made some deeper instinct react. The smell of those beasts were that of predators, things that would prey upon her. Lúthien's senses flared, and she turned to look over the river. The riders came into view. Lúthien began to saddle Gilleth. She watched them reach the bank of the river, further west from where she and Gilleth stood. It was almost the exact place where she and Gilleth had rested before crossing the Gwathlo. They had not yet spotted her and Gilleth.

She regarded them coolly as she continued preparing Gilleth. They were less in number than before. She couldn't have killed that many, could she have? No. Even if every one she had injured had died, they would still not be that few in number. Perhaps they had split up for some reason. She wondered about what reasons they would have for parting company as they finally took notice of her and Gilleth. With raised, angry voices they raced towards her on the opposite bank. They shouted insults and threats at her. She regarded them casually, knowing the situation was in her favor, and showing it. She turned her back to them, attaching the travel sac to Gilleth's saddle with deliberate slowness. Fully insulted by her lack of concern for their presence, their tirade of insults and threats increased.

One of the riders charged the river, spurring his beast faster. The beast raced forward, snarling with malice until it was almost to the river. With a suddenness that surprised both Lúthien and the rider, the beast stopped, tearing its claws into the earth. The surprised rider was ejected from his perch atop the snarling creature and sent headlong, splashing into the river. The rider surfaced slightly down river, spitting and sputtering as he swam, most ungracefully, back to shore. Lúthien watched this all with great amusement. Perhaps the situation was more in her favor than she realized. Those creatures they rode could not swim, or at least had a strong aversion to water. Lúthien smiled with mischief.

"It seems your beast feels you have a great need for a bath."

Lúthien's mocking voice carried over to the party of riders on the other side. She knew it was arrogant, but she could find no reason to deny herself this bit of haughty ridicule. The other riders seemed to find Lúthien's mockery entertaining, several of them laughing at the their soaked comrade. The drenched rider was thoroughly enraged.

"You, elf, will die a painful death. I will see to it!" He shouted in anger

"After your tumble into the river, I fear I may die of laughter." She retorted.

The wet rider's companions roared with laughter. The wet rider growled in angry frustration, snatching a bow and arrow from one of the laughing riders.

"I will make you pay for those words, elf!" He said, nocking the arrow and taking aim.

He let fly the arrow. Lúthien watched as it missed her completely.

"Your aim seems a bit off, my wet friend. Perhaps you hit your head when you were sent so ungracefully into the river."

Fuming in anger, he let out a growling yell of his hatred for her. His fellows seemed to find his situation quite amusing. Snatching a few more arrows, he fitted them one by one onto his bow. Each time he missed, though his last shot had been quite close. Lúthien called out across the river once more.

"Perhaps you should give up before you waste all your arrows."

By now, even his comrades had begun making jokes at his expense. Lúthien surmised that either he was very inexperienced, or not liked particularly well by the others. Some had even begun to look irritated by him. Maybe it was his attitude that bothered them, or the fact that he truly was wasting so many arrows. Shooting Lúthien a cold glare, he let fly another arrow. This time it was sent straight towards her. With out giving thought to action, she pulled her father's sword from its sheath and blocked the arrow's path. It hit the sword and was sent hurdling to the ground from the force of its own momentum. Lúthien sighed in relief. By Valar she was lucky!

"It seems your aim has improved." She called out to him. He looked angry that she had not been injured. "Though, you might want to give up for today. You'll waste all your arrows trying to hit me at night."

It was true. Dusk had fallen and night was coming upon them all. The orc prepared to fire another arrow before an older looking orc stopped him.

"Stop wasting all the arrows, Ishkrut! What'll you do when you run out of arrows, throw our swords at her? You're an idiotic of an orc! We can't kill her with out weapons!" The older orc reprimanded.

Lúthien smiled with amused satisfaction as Ishkrut continued to get chewed out by the older orc. Lúthien frowned slightly. So they were orcs? She had never heard of such a creature. She looked back across the river and considered her options. It was growing dark rapidly, now. Night would be fully upon her in mere minutes. She really didn't want to ride all night again. She hadn't gotten enough sleep during the day to achieve such a thing. She was honestly tired. She decided she would sleep there, even though the orcs were so close. If they tried to cross the river she'd sense it or Gilleth would wake her.

The sense of danger changed, and she immediately looked across the river. At first she thought her eyes were deceiving her in the fading daylight. They were leaving? This was a curious turn of events. Why would they be leaving? Though her eyes began to fail her as they grew farther away, her sense of them did not. They were traveling, with haste, to the east. She wondered what reason they had for leaving so suddenly. Pondering on this, she slipped Gilleth's bridle and saddle off. Though she had a feeling they were up to something, she stuck with her decision to spend the night there. The orcs were growing steadily farther away and she felt more at ease. Even if they were up to something, she would sense their return. She hoped she was wrong about them being up to something. She wanted so much for a decent night's sleep.

Cerulean Sage

"Fourth chapter. Wahoo. I don't think there's too much to explain about this chapter, except that soap _did_ exist in the old days. They actually did make it out of flowers and stuff. They had perfume, too, but not like we do today. I figured 'why the heck not'. The flower I was describing is Lilies of the Valley. I love, love, love their scent, so I made Lúthien feel the same way. You'd have to be crazy not to love the way they smell. Tiger Lilies also have a very similar smell. If you've ever smelled either flower, you'll know what I'm talking about.

Oh, and I also made a picture. It has a side profile of Lúthien Arwen and everyone's favorite Fellowship elf. I really like the way it came out, though I had slight difficulties with my scanner. Nothing too big. Also, to the disappointment of some, you can't see Legolas's ears. Is that grammatically correct? Legolas's? I know it is, but it sounds so funny to say aloud. I made it completely by hand with pen. Though, I did make some slight alterations on the computer. The hardest parts were Lúthien's eyes, Legolas's eyebrows, and his profile. I did a decent job with his profile, but had to use a picture of him for reference to make sure everything was proportionate.

Since it's near impossible to include a URL address in the story, just ask me and I'll send it to you.

Last but most certainly not least. I want to issue a _huge_ thank you to AmberRose. She was a wonderful help to me. She went above and beyond the call of duty, and went through a great deal of time and effort to help me out. I am extremely grateful to her and would like everyone to know what a wonderful person she is to have helped me the way she did. Thank you, AmberRose. You are very much appreciated."


	5. Chapter 5

Lúthien felt around the ground, gathering sticks to build a fire. She could see, but not well. The moon was slightly smaller than it had been the night before. Normally, it would have been enough, but the sky was cloudy and blocked much of the moonlight. It was going to rain. Piling the sticks beneath the boughs of a tree, she began to strike the flint stones she had found in the travel sac. The tree would give some shelter from the rain. She had been lucky that the stones were in the bag she had gotten when she and her parents parted company. She had a small fire going in no time, adding larger sticks gradually. Once the fire was going well, she walked to the cloth she had laid out in the sun earlier. She touched it, and to her delight, it was dry. Taking it with her, she walked over to the fire. Gilleth had laid down not far away, making herself comfortable in the grass beneath the tree. Laying the cloth a fair distance from the fire, she collected as much firewood she could find, and set it near the fire. Following Gilleth's example, she laid down in the grass, covering herself with the cloth. She rested there for a while, lying awake, and tossing the occasional stick onto her fire.

She let her mind wander as the rain began to fall. Then something came to her. How did she know where she was heading? She had never been to Rivendel, and she had never once wondered if she was going in the right direction. A slight panic washed over her. What if she was going the wrong way? Then the panic left as soon as it came. Somehow, some way, she knew she was going the right way. It was almost like her sense of danger, though not bad. Something inside told her to go this way, and she would trust that sense. Her senses had yet to lead her astray. With a newfound calm, she drifted off to sleep to the drumming of the rain.

It was dark, very dark. Lúthien looked around her, but could see nothing. She felt as though she was not alone. Something in the depths of the night watched her, haunted her, hunted her. She could feel it, always just out of sight, just out of the reach of her senses. It chilled her to the bone. Her fear was so thick she could taste it, paralyzing and terrible. She felt it in her mind, like all the evils of the night had taken shape. Now those evils sought to destroy her. Her eyes darted around her, seeking, searching for whatever thing lay in waiting just beyond her vision. Then she saw it. It came forth, a shadow in the blackness. It reached out to her. Its very existence consisted of death and she jerked away from it. It flew to her with a speed she'd never though possible. It grabbed her up, wrapping her in its death. Pain coursed through her, but she was too frightened to scream. Then she saw it, the eye. The terrible eye, staring at her, staring through her, burning her soul to ashes. The same terrible fear found her, fear so real it felt as though her body was being torn apart.

With a start, Lúthien jolted up from her sleep. Gilleth regarded her curiously. The same fear from her dream coursed through her. She gripped at her chest, grimacing in pain. What in the name of Valar could cause such a feeling? Her breathing was harsh and labored. Sweat began to form on her delicate brow. The source of her fear seemed to be all around her. She set herself against the painful fear and tried to focus. It came from the north west and south east. Two different sources, but the same fear. What could this possibly mean? What could it be?

Then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped. Lúthien remained unmoving, panting as the pain and fear slowly faded away. The night air cooled the sweat on her delicate brow and she soon felt chilled to the bone. The rain had stopped, but the air was left cold and moist. The tree had been a decent shelter, but she was still slightly wet from the water that dripped from the branches above. Looking at her fire, she saw it burned very low, its embers glowing faintly. She tossed a few sticks on, needing to feel the reassuring warmth of the fire. What on Middle Earth was that all about? What could have caused such a feeling, from two different sources no less. At lot of things needed explaining, but she would find no answers now. The sticks had sparked into flames, and the comforting heat warmed her face. She was still very tired, and she could tell dawn was still hours away. With unsettled nerves, she drifted back to sleep.

Dawn came with out further incident. As the sun's first rays touched the landscape, Lúthien felt a familiar, yet troubling, sensation. Her eyes fluttered open, blinking against the rising sun. The orcs were returning. Lúthien sat up, focusing on her senses. Had they crossed the river during the night? They must have, because they were approaching from her side of the river. They were growing steadily closer. They must be riding those creatures. She continued to think as she woke Gilleth. Had they gone all the way to the mountains to get around the river? It was possible. She had to hand it to them, they were certainly determined. It was unfortunate, though, that they were determined to kill her.

Packing her belongings, and a bit of wood ash, she prepared Gilleth to leave. She placed her saddle and reins on and attached the travel sac. Jumping up into the saddle, she spurred Gilleth northward. She smirked in amusement as she thought about how furious Ishkrut would be when they arrived to find her gone. Lúthien allowed herself a bit of mirthful laughter as the sun warmed her face with its life-giving rays. The day continued with out further incident. It was a fair day. They traveled at a fairly swift pace for some hours. It was midday before they stopped for rest and food. Lúthien gave Gilleth some of the fruits and vegetables she had collected the previous day before having some herself. While Gilleth grazed and drank, Lúthien searched for some more ingredients for her soap. To her delight, she stumbled upon a bees' nest. To her dismay, she literally stumbled upon it, and had to run from a swarm of angry bees. Apparently, the nest had been knocked down somehow.

Lúthien was forced to wait at least an hour before attempting to go back to the nest. Now that the bees had been disturbed and angered, they would be quick to attack. After a bit more than an hour, Lúthien crept back to the place where she found the next. She stayed a distance away, using the flint stones to make a small fire from dried grass. She blew the fire out before approaching the nest with the smoking embers on the tip of her father's sword. The bees, reacting to the smoke, soon became passive to her presence. Using the sword, she cut a bit of the honey laden honeycomb away. A bit of honey would be a wonderful treat for her and Gilleth. She only needed a little bit for her soap. The bees' wax would be an important ingredient, too. Mentally thanking the bees for the wax and honey, she made her way back to the clearing where she had left Gilleth, licking honey off her fingers.

She now had every ingredient she would need to make her soap. All she needed was a bit of water, and that was found easily enough. While Gilleth continued to graze and restore her strength, Lúthien made another fire to mix the ingredients of her soap. Using smooth stones from the ground, she ground the flower blossoms into a smooth paste. Using her father's sword, she cut open the bulbs on the plant she had collected the day before, dripping the liquid inside onto a broad lead. Using the broad leaf, she mixed the paste, wood ash, some honey, and water together with the liquid to make a fragrant mess. Pouring as much honey from the honeycomb as she could, she held the wax over the fire, softening it until it was pliable. She then proceeded to mix the wax with the ingredients on the leaf. The result was a moist greyish blob. Satisfied with her work, she wrapped it in the cloth of the ruined dress she had used to make her raft. She had a feeling the dress still had a few uses, so she had packed it. Lúthien smiled. By the time the wax cooled and the excess moisture was soaked up by the cloth, she'd have a new bar of soap. Given, she didn't have any milk to add to it, but she was sure it would turn out just fine.

Satisfied, now, that she'd be properly clean by the time she reached Rivendel, she mounted Gilleth and continued heading north. It would be some hours before they stopped again. They remainder of the day passed with out occurrence. Lúthien ate a dinner of vegetables and a fruit while riding Gilleth, not finding it important enough to actually stop. She wanted to reach Rivendel by the next night, if at all possible. She had a feeling it was very possible if they continued at their current pace. That reminded her. She should clean herself up well before arriving. She wanted to make as good of an impression as she could. This would be her first time walking amongst elves.

The day grew late, and the sun began to set in the west. Lúthien decided to stop at the next water source. It wasn't too long before she had run into River Loudwater. She had heard it before she had actually seen it. She had only to follow her ears to find it. Dismounting, Lúthien felt her stomach twist in excitement. After this night, she would finally reach Rivendel. Lúthien stroked Gilleth's head.

"Tonight, my dear friend, we both shall have a good grooming."

Gilleth wickered in response. Lúthien slipped Gilleth's bridle and saddle from her.

"You will be first."

Taking Gilleth to the water's edge, she began to wash her thoroughly. When Gilleth was completely clean, Lúthien set her loose.

"Try to stay clean, my friend. I would like to do something special with you once I am clean as well."

Gilleth snorted in response before wandering off on her own to graze. Now it was Lúthien's turn. She rummaged through the travel sac, pulling out the soap she had made earlier that day. Just as she expected, it was now hardened and ready to be used. Walking back to the water, Lúthien began to slip out of her mother's dress. Once she was fully unclothed, she slipped into the chilling water. With a violent shiver and a slight cry of complaint, she began to clean herself from head to toe. She worked quickly, very much wanting to be out of the cold water as soon as possible. Despite her rush to get out of the water, she was very thorough, making sure to clean herself very well. Once she was clean, she wrung her hair out as thoroughly as possible. Then she proceeded to dry herself using the same cloth as before.

Once dry, she searched through the travel sac, pulling out a burgundy dress. It was a fairly lovely dress, a deep scarlet red with darker red trim. She would wear that tomorrow before arriving at Rivendel. Tonight, she would wear the same brown dress. Slipping back into her mother's brown dress, she slung the wet cloth over a low hanging tree branch. There was little daylight left, and she would need to sleep with that cloth by nightfall. Reaching for the horses' supply bag, she called Gilleth over. Gilleth complied, trotting over to her. Lúthien began to comb through Gilleth's wet mane. When it was smooth and knot free, she began to weave it into an intricate braid.

"My friend, you will be the most beautiful mare in all of Rivendel." Lúthien said, smiling. "You may even catch the eye of a handsome young stallion." she said, her voice suggestive.

Gilleth protested, backing up as if to escape Lúthien's words.

"Do not move! You will ruin the braid!" Lúthien reprimanded. A smile tugged at her lips. "Though you deny it, now, I believe you would not feel so adamant should the handsome stallion catch your eye as well."

Gilleth snorted in protest, but did nothing more.

"We will see, then, my dear friend." She said, letting her voice trail off meaningfully.

Finishing the braid, Lúthien looked around. She groaned in frustration as she noticed she had forgotten the hair ribbon she planned to use. It sat just inside the travel sac, barely out of her reach. If she let go of Gilleth's mane, the braid would fall apart. Stretching out her leg, she picked up the ribbon between her toes, still maintaining her hold on Gilleth's braid. Bringing her foot to her hand, she grasped the ribbon and tied it securely to the end of the braid. She stepped back to admire her handy work.

"You are more beautiful than usual. I hadn't thought that to be possible."

Gilleth whinnied, bobbing her head towards Lúthien.

"I do not tell you these things to embarrass you. I say them because they are true. Who should you be embarrassed for, anyhow? There is no one but us, dear Gilleth."

Gilleth nickered in response, but said nothing more. With out further procrastination, Lúthien set to work on Gilleth's tail, brushing and braiding it in another intricate braid. When she was done, a playful smile played on her face. She let out a gasp, as if something astonishing had happened. Gilleth looked to her questioningly.

"Who is this beautiful filly? I would bet every good-looking steed from all over Middle Earth would fight against tremendous odds just to see her! I think there-" Lúthien was cut short as Gilleth shoved her, knocking her to the earth. Gilleth neighed down at her loudly, pulling her lip back. Lúthien looked up at her with a smile.

"So you may tease me, but I may not tease you?" Gilleth neighed loudly again. "Alright, my friend. I apologize." Lúthien said, still smiling good-naturedly. "Though I can not help but wonder when the day will come that I will hear the pitter-patter of tiny hooves." She said, smiling still as she picked herself off the ground. Gilleth nickered at her, lowering her head and pulling her ears back slightly. Lúthien's eyed widened.

"There is a difference! I have no child because I cannot find love!" Gilleth nickered at her, again, though with more amusement. Lúthien blushed deeply, her porcelain cheeks stained crimson. "I cannot believe you would suggest such a thing."

Gilleth nickered softly, motioning with her head and making various throat noises. Lúthien regarded her as she spoke, the shock in her face fading to something similar to sadness. Once Gilleth had fallen silent, it was Lúthien's turn to speak.

"You are right. We are not so different, you and I. We are both well beyond the normal age for marriage and children, yet we have none. What if we never find what we are looking for, never find love?" Gilleth nodded her head. "Yes. We will always have each other. Though I had always hoped to see you bear beautiful colts and foals." Gilleth grunted. A long moment of silence passed. "Gilleth?" Gilleth looked at her, acknowledging her. "Let us make a pact. If, by the time we are both at the end of our fertility, we have not found love, then we will forsake love and bear offspring for the sake of each other."

They stared at each other for a long while, lingering in silence. Gilleth came forward, nudging Lúthien gently with her nose. Lúthien smiled, wrapping her arms around her neck. "Then it is a deal."

The rest of the night passed quietly. Gilleth grazed while Lúthien ate her fair share of fruits and vegetables. She looked in her travel sac, silently hoping tomorrow truly would be their last day of traveling. They were running low on food. Much of what she had gathered days ago was either eaten already or beginning to spoil. The fruits, especially, were beginning to go bad. Lúthien had decided to eat all she could tonight, so as not to waste any. Even if she was not particularly hungry, chiefly because of the agreement with Gilleth, she knew the energy would serve her well in the future.

It was true that Lúthien didn't feel very hungry. Thinking about what she had agreed to made her feel somewhat ill. Though, it soothed her to know she still had years upon years before she would have to own up to her promise. Hopefully, by then, she would find love and not have to forsake it. Lúthien smiled, despite herself. Gilleth would have to face the consequences of that promise years before she would. Lúthien found that somehow comforting. Perhaps if Gilleth could find happiness in having children with out love, then she could do the same.

Feeling a bit better about her situation, she let herself drift out of her thoughts. She finally noticed how deep in her thoughts she had been as she realized the sun had already set. She quickly set to work, building a fire and preparing to bed for the night. Gilleth had already beaten her to it, laying down to rest close to her side. Once a fire was built, she settled down, simply letting the flames warm her as its shadows danced across her face. Tonight would be her last night alone. Tomorrow night, she would be in Rivendel. That simple fact played in her mind over and over, making the butterflies inside her flutter restlessly. She could not recall ever being so nervous. She had often dreamed of being amongst elves, making friends, learning their language and culture, and maybe even living in their cities as though she was one of them. Tomorrow almost felt like that dream would come true. She hoped very much that her dreams would not become a nightmare, and that the elves were as wonderful as she had always been told.

Throwing a few more sticks on the fire, she stood and walked to the cloth hanging on a tree branch. It was still slightly moist, but it was good enough. It would dry soon enough by the fire. Taking it down, she sat near the fire once more. Pulling the cloth over herself, she settled down for the night. A content smile lingered on her face as she drifted off to sleep. Tonight, she would dream of wonderful elves and their beautiful cities.

Lúthien found herself in darkness once more. She felt the fear again, such strong fear. She felt the same, watchful eyes upon her. Though, this time it was more than one pair. Several pairs of eyes were on her, watching her from every angle. She felt afraid, helpless, and violated. There was no where to run, no where to hide. They came forth, shadows from blackness. They circled her, coming from every angle. Her knees felt weak from fear, her heart felt weak. The fear was strong, making her feel as though it was better to give up on life and let death come rather than let those creatures reach her. She fought against the tugging darkness, willing herself to be strong. Why she should be strong, she did not know. Perhaps because giving something up as precious as life was not an option. Then it came to her. She would fight. But how? Then she saw it, hanging at her side as if it had always been there. Her father's sword. Taking it up, she faced the dark shadows.

"Though I do fear you, I will not stand down! I will not give in to my fear, and I will not give in to you! If you want my life, then you must take it from me with force!" She pointed the sword to the shadows, who had paused in their approach. "I will fight for my life as long as I have life to fight with!"

Her words were strong and bold, echoing in the dark. The creatures drew their swords, just as dark and evil as they. The shadows came at her, and she fought. The sound of metal against metal sounded in her ears, ringing with the clarity of bells. These were the bells of war, and they would sound as long as she still held breath. Dodging and darting, she fought off the creatures with a skill she did not know she possessed. Matching blade for blade, she fought them two and three at a time. The fear in her heart had grown into courage, the kind of courage that knew no pain, no fear, no fatigue. It was the kind of courage borne of desperation. It filled her to the brim, and she drank from it ravenously.

Then it happened. She struck one of the creatures. It screeched a horrible sound, its tatters of shadows fading into nothing. Then it was gone. Soon another fell, then another, until only one stood left. Though it looked no different from the others, she knew it was the same one from before. It had remained back as the others fought. Now it walked forward, reaching out to her. She swung at it, slicing it through the middle. This time, though, it did not fade into nothingness. Her sword went through it, as if it was not really there. She swung again and again, becoming panicked and desperate to destroy this last one. She backed up and it followed her, matching her step for step. Then, just as swiftly as last time, it reached out and grabbed her. The darkness faded away into red fire as the eye bore into her once more. The eye was larger, the fire burned hotter, and the pain of her soul being torn away was so much greater. She saw the eye in all its evil, and then… a ring? A piercing pain in her left shoulder made her cry out. At the sound of her pained cry, the fiery eye burned brighter, as if feeding off her agony.

This was all a dream. It had to be. Lúthien tried to rouse herself from sleep, but to no avail. The eye's gaze held her firm. It would not let her wake, would not let her go. It seemed to hold of her for an eternity, taking sadistic pleasure in her suffering. The pain never faded, never lessened. She felt as though her wounds were being continuously reopened and her pain constantly refreshed. It was torture of her body, torture of her mind, and torture of her soul. She fought to wake herself, trying to end the nightmare. She could not break the eye's hold, no matter how she tried. She called out for help, the only name she could think to call. She called for Gilleth. The fiery eye burned erratically, as if angered. She called out again, and soon felt the eye's gaze falter, saw its fire fading away, and felt the reassuring realm of wakefulness come upon her. Gilleth had saved her once again.

Lúthien opened her eyes, finding Gilleth standing over her, nudging her urgently. The pain in her body remained, as did the fear. Though, she soon realized why the fear remained. A familiar sensation came to her. The orcs were near, very near. In fact, they would be upon her in mere minutes. Lúthien jolted to her feet, crying out in pain. She reached up to grip her shoulder. When she pulled her hand back, her eyes widened in fear. Blood covered her palm. She tore away at the shoulder of her dress, searching for a wound. She was shocked to find none. Not allowing herself any time to think about the strange occurrence, she grabbed up her makeshift blanket, father's sword, and the travel sac, ignoring the steadily fading pain. She would have no time to saddle Gilleth. Hurriedly strapping on her father's sword, she stuffed the cloth and horses' supplies hastily into the travel sac, she mounted Gilleth bareback.

"Ride, my friend! Ride!"

Gilleth took off in an instant, sprinting away from the danger she knew was coming. She had smelled the danger when it got close and had tried for minutes to rouse Lúthien. It was several hours passed dawn, and very unlike Lúthien to still be asleep. She had always been one to wake anytime from an hour before or after dawn. When Lúthien had began to call out her name, Gilleth could her the pain and fear in her voice. She could also smell blood on her, which made her worry. That was when she began to nudge Lúthien more violently, until she finally woke. Now that they were steadily drawing farther from danger, Gilleth began to speak to Lúthien.

"I do not know how I was hurt, Gilleth. I have no wound." She said, still trying to make sense of it all. "I had felt the pain in my dream, but dreams aren't real. They can't hurt you, can they?" Gilleth did not answer.

Lúthien wasn't too sure anymore. The pain in her past few dreams had been real enough, but never before had she bled. And what of the eye? It refused to let her wake. Had it known danger was so near and not wanted her to wake and escape it? Could dreams kill? She looked to her palm. The blood was now dry, a dark stain against her pale skin. The shoulder of her dress was hard with dried blood as well. She desperately needed answers. Elves were wise. Perhaps, when she reached Rivendel, someone would have the answers she needed. Now, more than ever, she needed to see the elves.

They rode on for hours, stopping a bit after midday. Lúthien had wanted to stop near the Loudwater to clean up and change her dress. She washed off her hand and chest, wiping away the dried blood, before slipping into her mother's rouge dress. She fussed with the hips some. She had broken in the brown dress a bit, making it a little more comfortable to wear. Now she would have to deal with the uncomfortable tightness of another dress until it, too, stretched out a bit. Lúthien looked to Gilleth. She found she was very happy that Gilleth's braids had remained perfect through everything. The only problem was the tiny handprint of blood that marred Gilleth's left side. She quickly cleaned it away, making Gilleth's appearance perfect once more.

Lúthien's hair, on the other hand, was quite shabby. She hadn't brushed it for days, leaving it down for the wind to muss and tangle. It was now dry from the night before, and in desperate need of brushing. Taking Gilleth's brush, she began to comb out her hair from tip to top. It was the only way to brush through all of her hair, one bit at a time. Gilleth snorted at her, shaking her head a bit. Lúthien smiled at her sheepishly.

"I don't see why I cannot use the same brush as you. We are already more alike than a horse and human should probably be allowed to. Aside from that, we are best friends, are we not?" Gilleth bobbed her head. "I see no reason to tease me for using your brush, then." Lúthien said, smiling.

Lúthien finished combing through her fine hair, tying it in a sloppy, but tight, braid. She did not plan to have her hair in a braid upon reaching Rivendel. She simply just wanted to keep it from becoming windswept for the rest of their ride. Their midday break was peaceful, if not short. Lúthien fed Gilleth a number of the vegetables, having a few for herself. There was now only a few vegetables left. It would be enough for the night. If they did not reach Rivendel, she would have to forage for more food. Gilleth grazed and rested. Lúthien allowed herself a brief, though uneasy, nap. To be honest, she was now a bit afraid to go to sleep. Until she had found answers, she did not know for sure whether her next nap would be her last.

Before too long, they were off once more. Lúthien had found she was much more comfortable riding bareback. She had almost no discomfort. Her ride for the past few days had left her with a sore rear by the end of the day. Her only discomfort from riding bareback was the stiffness that came from not moving very much for hours at a time. Lúthien soon found herself wondering what had even possessed her to use a saddle in the first place. Perhaps it was because it was the only way she knew how to ride. Now that she knew how comfortable bareback was, she would never use a saddle again. She suddenly found herself wondering it a saddle had caused Gilleth discomfort as well.

"Gilleth? Was it ever uncomfortable for you to wear a saddle?" Gilleth snorted in response. "Why did you never say anything, then?" Lúthien asked, a bit upset. Gilleth snorted and grunted, throwing her head to the left in a gesture. "Well I will never saddle you again. It will be more comfortable for both of us." Gilleth made a variety of throat noises, showing she strongly agreed with that decision.

They were silent for a while, simply riding on towards their intended destination. Lúthien finally broke the silence. "Thank you for everything. You are a better friend than I ever could have asked for." Gilleth said nothing, causing Lúthien to continue. "This morning… you saved me. You saved me from the orcs and you saved me from my dream." Gilleth still remained silent, so Lúthien continued on. "My dream was no dream. It was a nightmare. I tried so hard to wake from it, but I could not. It was frightening and it hurt. You saved me. When I could not escape it on my own, I called out for you, and the nightmare faded away. It was because of you." Gilleth was silent for a while more until Lúthien thought she would say nothing at all. Lúthien knew she had been listening, because her ears were swiveled back to hear her. Then she whinnied, ever so gently. Lúthien smiled, a tear sliding down her cheek as she wrapped her arms around Gilleth's neck. "I love you, too."

They rode on in companionable silence for the rest of the day. When there was but only slightly more than an hour left of daylight, they were stopped by the Loudwater. It barred their path northward. Lúthien considered for a while what to do. She had a strong feeling that Rivendel was just beyond those waters. The feeling tugged at her, and she knew she should follow it. The problem was that she did no want to arrive in Rivendel soaking wet. She decided her best option would be to follow it into the mountains and go around it. With that decided, they headed east. Gilleth proceeded at a comfortable pace, having ran for hours, she was well entitled to a relaxed speed. Lúthien was worried they would not reach the mountains by nightfall and the terrain would be too treacherous to travel at night. To her delight, they reached the mountains with some daylight still left. To her further joy, the terrain wasn't as hazardous as she had thought it might be. There even appeared to be a sort of path. The sun was setting, but being on the west side of the mountains, they had enough light to travel by for at least a while.

Gilleth walked with ease over the path they had chosen. The thought came to Lúthien that perhaps this was a common path for anyone traveling to and from Rivendel. They truly were close. Lúthien let her hair out of its brain. The wind was calm and their pace was slow. She also did not want to be seen with such a careless braid. It would not do well for a first impression. She ran her fingers through her hair, undoing the last of the braid. It fell down her back neatly, reaching down to tumble over Gilleth's sides. The sun had disappeared, but the sky to the west still held a tint of blue as the black of night spread over the land.

Gilleth stopped quite suddenly, and Lúthien could see exactly why. Below them was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. Even in her most wonderful dreams, she had never imagined anything like this. Directly below them was the magical glow of an elfin city, its lights shining like jewels against the night. Words to describe its beauty escaped her. She had no words. This was a dream come to life. This was the elfin city of Rivendel.

Cerulean Sage

"Wow. This was a long chapter. I could have kept going, but I figured I'll continue on in another chapter. I'm not sure if I can think of anything in particular that might be confusing or need explaining. If you have any questions, I'll be glad to explain, though.

On the advice of elven-princess3212003 I will try to add the link to my picture, even though the scene it's supposed to be doesn't happen yet. It's supposed to be the meeting between Lúthien and Legolas. Its significance is that he is the first Fellowship member she meets. It's not really intended to be anything particularly romantic. They are quite close, but that was just out of my need to have them both in the picture. Also, it is best viewed in its smaller form. When enlarged, it shows every tiny mistake with great detail. Thank you, elven-princess3212003, for your help."

www.angelfire. com/clone/3menchisaga/images/Scan10011.JPG


	6. Chapter 6

Though Lúthien could be content to stare down at Rivendel in awe all night, she knew she could not. Her butterflies returned, stronger than ever. She felt giddy and lightheaded. This was all so exciting. Urging Gilleth onward, they continued to follow the trail to reach Rivendel. It was only a few minutes later when two figured stepped out in front of her, seemingly from no where. They were armored with long, dark hair reaching down to their shoulders. They did not act threatening, so she continued towards them.

The two guards had been engaged in a quiet conversation until they heard approaching hooves. Hearing only one horse's hooves, they felt at ease enough to let themselves be known. When they stepped out, they saw a lady riding an elvish horse, and assumed she must be an elf. When she came close enough that they could make out her face in the dark, they were stunned. Never before had they seen such a beautiful lady. Until that point, they had thought Lady Arwen to be the most beautiful elf in existence. They had not thought it possible for anyone to be more beautiful that she, but this approaching rider had changed their minds.

"_Do you see what my eyes cannot believe?"_ One asked, speaking in Elvish.

"_I see it, Gonnon, but my eyes do not believe it, either."_ The other responded. _"We must have fallen asleep at our post and strayed into dreams."_

When Lúthien was only 10 feet or so away, the one named Gonnon called out to her. _"Hail, my lady. I have never seen your like before. May I ask your name?"_

So these were elves? She could not see their ears beneath their helmets. They certainly were handsome, of that were was no doubt. Lúthien did not understand Elvish, but she recognized a question when she heard one. She assumed he was asking who she was and what she wanted.

"Hello, good sirs. My name is Lúthien. I come here seeking one by the name of Gandalf."

The two guards looked at each other, a bit shocked. An elf speaking Westron instead of their native tongue when given the choice was odd enough, but the truly shocking thing was her name. She had said her name was Lúthien. The Lúthien they knew of was said to be the most beautiful elf to ever live, even more so than Arwen, but she no longer existed in these lands. They looked back to her with widened eyes. Could this be the legendary Lúthien? Gonnon was the one to speak, again, this time in Westron.

"My lady, do my elfin ears deceive me, or did you just now say that your name is Lúthien?"

Lúthien nodded. "Yes, dear sir. My full first name is Lúthien Arwen. Most know me simply as Lúthien, but you may call me by one name or the other if you find it to be easier."

The two guards exchanged another glance. The other elf with Gonnon spoke up.

"My name, my lady, is Tirithon." he said, taking off his helmet and setting it on a large rock. "You say you come here seeking Gandalf the Grey. I am most regretful to inform you that he is not here in Rivendel."

Lúthien's heart fell. Had she traveled all this way for nothing? What if it had all been for nothing? The guard soon regret his words at seeing the disappointment in her eyes.

"Come. I will take you to Lord Elrond. Perhaps he can offer you some help." Tirithon suggested.

Lúthien's mood improved, a bright smile lighting her face. Tirithon felt a smile spread over his face at the sight of her brilliant one. He looked to see that Gonnon was smiling as well.

"My lady, your smile is contagious."

Lúthien's smile brightened, a slight blush creeping into her porcelain cheeks. Lúthien began to climb from Gilleth's back. Gonnon stepped swiftly to her side with amazing grace.

"Let me help you, my lady." He said, holding a hand out to her.

She slipped her tiny hand into his larger one. He pulled her towards him gently, placing his other hand around her tiny waist. She found herself being pulled from Gilleth's back ever so gently. By Valar, he was certainly strong! She hadn't expected someone so slender to lift her with such effortlessness. She found herself wondering if all elves possessed this kind of strength. When she felt her feet touch the ground, she found herself staring up at Gonnon. He had to be at least a full foot taller than her! He let go of her waist, but continued to gently hold her hand.

"_By Valar, she is tiny!"_ Gonnon said, speaking to Tirithon.

Tirithon nodded his head. _"I agree. She is quite small, even for a lady."_

It was true. All elf ladies were tall, at least reaching a height of 5'7". Lúthien would be lucky to reach an inch above 5 foot. She didn't understand what they were saying, and found herself wishing she could speak even a little Elvish. Gonnon gently slipped her hand into Tirithon's waiting one.

"Tirithon will take you to see Lord Elrond, my lady." Gonnon spoke.

Lúthien nodded her head to Gonnon in a polite gesture. "Thank you greatly, good sir ."

"You are greatly welcome, my lady." Gonnon responded.

With that, Lúthien placed her free hand on the side of Gilleth's neck as Tirithon lead her down the path. Gilleth followed close, never breaking the contact with Lúthien. Tirithon lead her down the path, her left hand in his and his right hand placed gently on the small of her back. His grip on her hand was gentle and his touch on her back was light. Lúthien could not think of the two elves she had met so far as anything but perfect gentlemen.

"If you do not mind my asking, my lady, what brings you here in search of Gandalf the Grey?"

Lúthien looked at him, the light of the moon behind them shining in her large, grey eyes. Tirithon found this to be strange as well. Every elf he had met had bright blue eyes, yet her eyes were grey as slate.

"To be honest, it was a dream that led me here."

"A dream?"

Lúthien nodded. Tirithon looked down at her. He did not find it odd that she carried a sword. She would be crazy to be out in the wilderness with out one these days. What seemed odd to him was that she wore human clothes. He debated for a while whether to ask about them or not. After a while, he could no longer stifle his curiosity.

"If I may be so bold, my lady. May I ask why you wear those clothes?"

Lúthien was a bit shocked. Had he noticed she was still a bit uncomfortable wearing her mother's dress?

"After I had the dream telling me to come to Rivendel, I had to part company with my parents. We were being pursued by orcs at the time, and in our haste, I took the travel sac containing my mother's clothing." She said honestly.

Tirithon looked at her a bit oddly. "Why would your mother wear human clothes?"

Lúthien smiled up at him humorously. "Because my mother is human." she said, a bit of laughter in her voice.

Tirithon was shocked. "So you are only half elf?" His voice showing his surprise.

Lúthien laughed merrily. "I am not an elf at all." She said, smiling charmingly.

In disbelief, his hand left her back, moving to brush back her hair. He hesitated.

"May I…"

She nodded, tilting her head toward him in encouragement. He brushed back her hair, ever so gently, to uncover a tiny, perfectly rounded ear. He was stunned. How could someone so beautiful be human?

"Gonnon and I had thought you to be an elf, my lady." Tirithon said, finally recovering from his shock.

Lúthien smiled up at him. "So did the orcs. I realized it was probably because I rode Gilleth." She said, motioning to the mare at her right side.

"My lady, I would have thought you to be elf kind, whether you rode an elvish mare or not." He said, looking down at her. "I never thought someone so beautiful could be anything but an elf." Lúthien flushed deeply. Tirithon, noticing her embarrassment, quickly made to correct himself. "Forgive me, my lady. I've spoken too boldly. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable."

Lúthien's blush deepened. "It's quite all right. I am not uncomfortable. You have been nothing but a perfect gentleman, and I am very happy to be in your company."

Now it was Tirithon's turn to blush, a radiating heat rushing to his face. Lúthien looked up to smile at him until she noticed something.

"Your ears… they look red." She said, squinting her eyes as she inspected his ears with more scrutiny. "They are." She said, amazement in her voice as she watched them seem to go from a bright red to a darker red before her very eyes.

Tirithon cleared his throat uncomfortably. "It is the way elves… blush, my lady." His voice faltered a bit.

Lúthien laughed. "On no! Now it is my turn to apologize for making _you_ uncomfortable." She said, smiling brightly.

"There is no need for apologies." He said warmly, stopping in front a beautifully lit street. "This, my lady, is the home of Lord Elrond."

Lúthien looked at the beautiful houses in awe. She had been so concentrated on her conversation with Tirithon, she hadn't even noticed when they entered into the city. Elaborate and beautiful dwellings were everywhere for the eye to see. Wonderful gardens were littered everywhere. She could tell their colors were vibrant and lively, even in the dark of night.

"It's so beautiful." She said, awe filling her voice. "I thought it was too beautiful for words even from far away. Not even in my dreams could I think of such beauty."

Tirithon smiled down at her. "I am very happy you approve, my lady." Lúthien smiled at him warmly, squeezing his hand in a friendly gesture. "Come. We will bring your horse to the stables before going to see Lord Elrond." He said, leading her to the left, his hand on the small of her back guiding her.

Lúthien smiled happily when they reached the stables. Even _they_ were beautiful. Tirithon left her side, walking forward quickly to open the gate for her. Elfin men were _such_ gentlemen! This place was just so amazing. Lúthien found that she would be very happy to spend the rest of her life in a place like this, with people like this. They entered the stable. The first thing she saw were many beautiful elfin horses.

"They are beautiful." She said, slightly breathless.

She knew elfin horses were beautiful, but never had she seen so many in one place. She immediately walked to the closest stall, holding out her hand to the grey stallion inside.

"Hello. My name is Lúthien. May I ask yours?"

The stallion made a lengthy whinny, ending with a grunt. The stallion came forward, nudging her with his nose. Tirithon walked to her swiftly once he realized what horse was in the stall.

"My lady, it would not be wise to go near him. He does not take kindly to humans, and I am not sure how he would react to you." He said, gently trying to lead her away.

Lúthien placed her other hand on Tirithon's, stopping him. "You give Dagorgon far too little credit, dear sir."

Tirithon stared at her, stunned. "How did you know his name?"

Lúthien smiled at him. "He told me." She said, gently stroking Dagorgon's cheek. "Animals may not always be able to understand your words, but they know your intentions. They know whether you mean them harm or not. Human intentions are not always clear, which is why animals do not trust them easily. Humans are unpredictable and destructive creatures." she said, smiling as Dagorgon nudged her again. "Even though we speak different languages, we can understand them if we listen with our hearts. They will understand us, as well, if we open our hearts to them."

Tirithon was surprised. He had never heard a human speak that way.

"Are you sure you are not an elf, my lady?" he asked, laughing.

Lúthien laughed as well. "I could only dream to be an elf. Then I would live in a beautiful place such as Rivendel."

They smiled at each other for a moment before Gilleth broke the moment. She could take no more, watching that stallion get so comfortable with Lúthien. She walked forward, moving between Lúthien and Dagorgon. Dagorgon pulled his ears back slightly, insulted by Gilleth's action.

"You have terrible jealousy, my friend. I was merely getting to know him."

Gilleth nickered.

"I promise. You will always be my best friend.."

"My lady." Tirithon said, breaking them up. "It grows steadily late. We should hurry before Lord Elrond retires for the night." He said, leading Gilleth to a stall near the back.

Lúthien nodded. "Of course. You are right. I had not intended to cause such a delay."

It took him only a minute to secure Gilleth in the stall. Once he was finished, he walked back to Lúthien, taking her hand and leading her as before. He walked her back out of the stables, leaving her for only a moment to open the gate for her and led her through. Leading her through street after street, Lúthien tried to take in all she could. Everything was so beautiful. They would sometimes pass the occasional elf, earning her very curious gazes. Lúthien began to feel very self conscious. The stares weren't bad, per say , just very intense. She made sure her ears remained covered by her hair. She felt nervous about being the only human in a city full of elves, especially with all the stares she was receiving.

Tirithon, looking down at her, noticed her uneasiness. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. She responded by squeezing back, and he could see her relax a little.

"All my life, I've been told what wonderful people elves were. Since as far back as I can remember, I've not heard one bad remark about them." Lúthien said, looking up at Tirithon. "Now that I stand here, I begin to see that every word has been true."

Tirithon smiled proudly. "We elves are good people, my lady. We are all bound by our honor, and happy to be so. We have no laws, no jails, and our worst punishment is to be banished. We do not need laws and jails. We live by our honor. When someone does commit a foul act, their shame is usually enough punishment. Should someone do something truly unforgivable, they are banished from the cities of elves."

Lúthien looked to him with slightly widened eyes. "What becomes of the ones who are banished?" She said, avoiding the stares of another elf.

"Some live their lives in the wilderness. Others live among humans in their villages. Still others…" he said, trailing off, "their fate is the worst of all. They become orcs, my lady."

Lúthien looked to Tirithon in shock. "Orcs?" She asked, disbelievingly. "Those twisted creatures that have been hunting me so relentlessly were once elves?"

Tirithon nodded sadly. Lúthien lowered her eyes sadly. What insanity would possess someone to turn from the most beautiful and elegant creature in all of Middle Earth into a horrible creature like that? It was a truly disheartening thought.

"My lady, you say they've been hunting you?" Tirithon asked suddenly, breaking her sad reflections.

Lúthien nodded. "For 3 days, they've been pursuing me, intent to kill me." Tirithon looked bothered. "Is something the matter?"

"Would it be possible they followed you to Rivendel, my lady?"

Lúthien suddenly understood her folly. "Oh no! I've put everyone here in danger!" She said, about to go back to the stables to get Gilleth. She would not put these good people in danger.

Tirithon tightened his arm around her waist, stopping her from going anywhere. He could see in her eyes that she was planning to do something. "Do not be upset, my lady. Rivendel is a haven for those seeking safety. While you are within Rivendel, you are under our protection. Let our guards take care of whatever danger there may be. It is our duty."

Lúthien nodded solemnly. Tirithon continued to lead her until they came to rest in front of a large, beautiful elfin house. Had Lúthien not been so concentrated on her thoughts of the possibility that the orcs had indeed followed her to Rivendel, she would have been wowed at its size and beauty. Tirithon left her side, knocking gently on the large, exquisitely carved door. After a moment or so, a fair elfin lady opened the door.

"_Good evening, Lady Siriowen. I wish to have words with Lord Elrond."_

"_Let him enter, Lady Siriowen. You may also retire for this night."_

Lady Siriowen opened the door wide, staring in surprise at Lúthien. Lúthien shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, looking away from those intense blue eyes as Tirithon led her in the door. As soon as they were in, Lady Siriowen let herself out, still casting glances at Lúthien's back before the door closed. Tirithon placed his fist against his chest and bowed low to Lord Elrond in respect. Lúthien bowed her head as well.

"_Tirithon, what business do you have for me this night, and who do you bring with you?"_ He asked, staring intently at Lúthien. Never before had he seen someone fairer than his daughter, Arwen.

"_My Lord, I bring Lady Lúthien Arwen. She comes seeking Gandalf the Grey."_ Tirithon spoke.

Lord Elrond was a bit taken back by the name, but did not show it. He had never seen nor heard of anyone like her. Who was she and where was she from? Lúthien shifted uncomfortably under Lord Elrond's gaze. She had been a bit unnerved by the stares she had been receiving from other elves, but his gaze seemed to peer right into her very soul. She knew they were talking about her, because she heard her name. It was the only part of their conversation she understood.

"_Also," Tirithon continued, "there may be possibility that a group of orc heads this way. They come in search of Lady Lúthien Arwen."_

"_How great in number?" _Lord Elrond asked.

"_I know not, my Lord, though Lady Lúthien Arwen may."_

Lord Elrond turned to Lúthien. _"How many orc pursue you, Lady Lúthien Arwen?"_

"_My Lord,"_ Tirithon spoke, _"I do not intend disrespect, but I must interpolate. She does not speak Elvish."_

Lord Elrond was slightly surprised. _"What elf does not speak Elvish?"_

"_She is not an elf, my Lord. She is human."_

Lord Elrond looked to Lúthien in surprise. She looked every part of an elf, though she was tiny and her eyes were grey as stone. He did not think it possible for a human to be so beautiful.

"So you are a human, then, Lady Lúthien Arwen?" Lord Elrond asked, speaking in Westron.

"Yes, my lord." She said, lowering her eyes.

Lord Elrond smiled. He could tell she was nervous. "I would like to welcome you, personally, to Rivendel, Lady Lúthien Arwen."

Lúthien looked to him. "Thank you, my lord."

"Now, can you tell me how many orcs you believe are heading this way?"

"No more than 10, my lord. They were some hours behind me. I am terribly sorry to have brought such trouble to your door." She said, guilt in her voice.

"_Tirithon," Lord Elrond said, turning to the other elf, "go alert the guard to be on the watch for orcs."_

Tirithon bowed low, his fist to his chest. _"Yes, my Lord."_ With that, he turned on his heel and let himself out.

"Do not worry about the circumstance of your arrival, Lady Lúthien Arwen. I am only relieved you arrived safely." Lord Elrond said, moving towards her. "Now, you say you come looking for Gandalf the Grey?" Lúthien nodded. "I must apologize, but he is not here. Perhaps I can help you in his stead?"

"I hope so, my lord." She said. Then she began to explain her situation. She told him everything, from the very beginning, starting with the invasion of her village and ending with her arrival in Rivendel. Lord Elrond looked at her, quite surprised.

"So you say you can sense danger?" Lúthien nodded. "And in these dreams, you see a great, fiery eye?" She nodded once more. "Most curious" He said to himself before addressing Lúthien once more. "I have a strong feeling that there is great importance to this. I would like for you to stay in Rivendel, at least until I can find meaning to what you are experiencing."

Lúthien nodded her head. "Yes, my lord." She should have been overjoyed that she was being invited to stay in a beautiful elfin city, but the seriousness in his voice made her joy pale in comparison to concern. What was it that made him look so worried? She very much wish she knew.

"Come. I will take you to a room where you can spend the night."

Lúthien nodded, following close behind him as he led her back out into the street. They walked through the streets in silence, Lúthien earning more curious stares from the elves they passed. What was it that made them stare? She knew they were watching her. She could feel their eyes upon her, even though she never caught their eyes when she looked at them. Was it just her imagination, her nervousness about being in a strange, new place? No. Just like she knew when the orcs were coming, and she was heading the right way to Rivendel. She just knew. After a while, they reached what appeared to be a small house, though still very beautiful.

"This is the quarter in Rivendel where guests are housed." Lord Elrond said, gesturing to the tiny houses all around. "This dwelling will be yours." He said, indicating the house before them. "You will find everything you need inside, including wardrobe. Breakfast will be brought first thing in the morning. Around noon, I will send someone to bring you to me. I would like to discuss more about your dreams."

Lúthien nodded once more. "Yes, my lord."

Lord Elrond smiled down at the tiny woman. "Rest well, Lady Lúthien Arwen."

With that, he walked away, leaving her by the door. She watched him walk away for a while until he was eventually out of sight. She hoped tonight would bring her good dreams. With thoughts of a restful sleep, she let herself into the tiny house and prepared to bed for the night.

Cerulean Sage

"Well this is the sixth chapter, I think. I believe I've lost count. The only thing I want to discuss is the use of titles. When addressing a man of higher rank or a lord, like Lord Elrond, titles such as 'Lord (name)' and 'my lord' are used. There's only a small difference when I use the term 'my lord'. For elves such as Tirithon, it is 'my Lord' because Elrond is his lord. Whereas when Lúthien addresses him, she addresses him as 'my lord'. This is because he is not her lord, but it is still used as a title showing respect. If an elf of higher status speaks to a male elf of lower rank, he does not need to address him with a title.

When addressing a lady, the title is either 'Lady (name)' or 'my lady'. A lady will be referred to as such, no matter what her status. This is so because of a thing called chivalry, a thing which no longer exists. When using 'my lady' the lady must either be of high rank or a stranger. If a lady is lower status than the one who speaks to her, she must still be given a title, but her title will be 'Lady (name)'. The only time when a title is not required when speaking to a lady is when the lady and the speaker are on familiar terms.

One last thing about titles. Each time a high ranking elf or lady is addressed, they must be addressed by the appropriate titles. This means that if the speaker is interrupted, he must address the person to whom he is speaking by their title again.

Ex.) "**Lord Elrond**, I must speak with you."

"About what?" asked Lord Elrond.

"About matters concerning the orcs, **my Lord**." Replied Tirithon.

The only instances when there is a slight breach of protocol is when someone of very high rank is addressing a lady. He still has to address her with the proper title, just not every single time he speaks to her. The other instance is when a woman speaks to any man not of high rank. She, as well, does not have to address him every time she speaks to him. Also, when a lady first meets a man, she is given the option to forgo the title of 'my lord' and address the man in any variant of 'sir'. Addressing strangers as 'my lord' is reserved for formal settings, such as gatherings that involve many prominent figures.

With that all said and done, I've explained anything I think that might need explaining. The only thing left I want to explain is that I will be writing this story based on the movies more so than the books. They do not coincide well, but they are both still wonderful, if only in their own ways. I am going to write this according to the movies for two reasons. The first is that I'm sure many more readers with be able to envision and be familiar with the movies, rather than the books. Also, I feel that it is not so sacrilegious to change the movies as it would be to change the books.

Anyhow, if you have any questions, comments, or anything to add, feel free to review. I have also made a picture of Tirithon, Lúthien, and Gilleth as they make their way into Rivendel. I managed to scan it properly this time, meaning in one piece. The link is below.."

www.angelfire. com/clone/3menchisaga/images/Scan10005.JPG


	7. Chapter 7

Lúthien waited for her eyes to adjust to the dark of the room. The soft while-blue light from outside filtered in through the curtains of the window near the door. From what she could see so far, the room was beautiful. Wanting to see more, she made her way over to the fireplace she saw at the other end of the room. She smiled. It was already prepared for a fire, so all she had to do was light it. Touching around the fire place, her hands fell on two small stones. Striking them above the kindling, she built a fire. She smiled in surprise as she saw the neat pile of logs in a cubbyhole off to the side of the fireplace. Taking a few out, she tossed them onto the growing fire. Soon, the fire was going well, and she turned to inspect her sleeping chambers.

She gasped as she saw the extent of her quarters. Intricately carved doorways and moldings weaved with patterns of ivy and flowers. The walls were decorated with beautiful pictorials. The curtains seemed to shimmer with silver in the flickering light of the fire. Beautiful furniture decorated the room. She awed at the magnificently crafted oak table with 3 equally beautiful chairs. Lovely ceramic vases with fragrant flowers and ferns growing from them littered the room. Looking off to her left, she saw the sleeping area. There was a marvelous oak wardrobe near the bed, carved in the same ivy patterns as the other woodwork. Then she examined the bed. It was huge! She had never seen such a posh bed before. Its headboard was carved in the same intricacy as the doorframes. It was covered with very soft looking pillows and covers. She suddenly found herself feeling very sleepy.

Not wanting to sleep in her clothes, she went to the wardrobe to search for some nightwear. Opening the beautiful doors, she found numerous gowns. Never had she seen such elegant gowns. Closing the doors, she pulled open a drawer near the floor.

"Aha!" She said triumphantly, pulling out a silken nightgown. Pulling it up to her face, she rubbed it over her cheek. "So soft…"

She closed her eyes, enjoying the softness against her cheek. Never had she felt something so soft and smooth. She marveled at it. It was a pale violet color and most probably transparent. Stripping out of her clothes, she folded them neatly on the bed. Then she slid the soft nightgown on. It fell past her ankles, pooling on the floor. The sleeves fell over her hands. She arched a delicate eyebrow. Obviously, these clothes were intended for someone a bit… taller. Shrugging with indifference, she scooped her clothes off the bed, lifted the hem of the dress, and walked over to set her clothes in one of the chairs. Smoothing the dress over, she turned to go to bed.

She had always been taught to take good care of her things. Her father had taught her to be responsible from a young age. If she wanted anything new, she was expected to take care of what she already had. For that reason, she took very good care of anything in her charge, including people. That was one reason she had been such a good healer at home. When someone was placed in her care, they became her responsibility, and her first priority.

Climbing into the soft covers, she thought back on her memories of caring for the sick, injured, and dying. She had sometimes stayed up throughout the night, nursing the very sick. She never allowed herself to rest until she knew they were well on the path to recovery. There had been an occasion when, somehow, she knew she could do nothing. She suddenly thought very hard on that. She had known before when someone was beyond help. How?

Her immediate fatigue forgotten, she delved deeper into her thoughts. Had she been able to sense things before, but never realized how? She had never thought anything of it, before. It had just come as a sort of instinct for her, and she had never thought anything more about it. On the same subject, she had always seemed to know what would help someone recover, almost by the same instinct. Lúthien's eyes burned with the need for sleep, but she was too deep in thought to acknowledge it.

There had been times she had sent people to retrieve plants for the ill, even though she had no formal knowledge that it would work. She had gone solely on instinct. It was almost like the feeling she got from someone who was ill or injured matched the feeling of the plant, almost like a key to a keyhole. How is it she could do these things, feel these things? Perhaps, tomorrow, she would bring this up with Lord Elrond in their discussion. Thinking about how she would bring this up to Lord Elrond tomorrow, she allowed sleep to overtake her.

Morning came in ecstasy for Lúthien. She woke warm and comfortable beyond belief. She felt as though she had fallen asleep in a cloud. Opening her eyes, she found herself in darkness. Sitting up, she looked around. She wasn't at all confused about where she was, but rather the time. Rising from bed, she walked to the window and pulled back the curtains. Still dark. She walked to the fire place, hovering her hand over the burnt wood from last night. Still warm. She must have only slept a few hours, though she felt extremely rested. Dawn was most likely still an hour or so away. Feeling a chill, she went to the fireplace to rebuild the fire.

She sat in silence for a while, warming by the fire as it sparked to life. She sat, her knees bend under, relaxing in warmth and silence. She reveled in the peace and quiet for the morning, the dancing fire keeping her comfortable and warm. She stayed that way for a long while. Eventually feeling an anxiety build within her, she felt a strong need to get out and do something. Deciding to wear her mother's dress, since the ones in the wardrobe most likely wouldn't fit, she stripped from the nightgown. Folding it neatly, she replaced it in its proper place in the wardrobe. Walking back to the table, she dressed herself in her mother's burgundy dress. Tying her slightly messy hair back in a loose braid, she ended it with a ribbon she had discovered in the wardrobe. Then she opened the door to her quarters and stepped out.

Looking east, she noticed the sky was brightening. The sun would be rising soon. Banking the location of her quarters to memory, she started walking, trying to retrace her steps from last night. Before long, she found herself on familiar paths. She continued walking, all the while remembering twists and turns. Once in a while, she would stop and think hard, trying to remember where she had been the night before. She hadn't been paying complete attention, so it occasionally took a lot of thinking and a little bit of guess work. Somehow, she had found herself in an area completely foreign to her. She was about to retrace her steps to familiar territory until a voice behind her spoke.

"Lady Lúthien Arwen." Lúthien nearly jumped out of her skin as she spun around to face Lord Elrond. "I am surprised to see you out and about this early. Did you not sleep well?"

Lúthien sighed in relief. He had startled her. "Yes, my lord. I slept exceptionally." She said, bowing respectfully. "I have always been an early riser."

Lord Elrond smiled down at her. "Was there anywhere in particular you were heading?"

Lúthien nodded. "I was trying to find my way to the stables. I wanted to wish Gilleth a good morning."

"I would be willing to take you there." He said, placing his hand on the small of her back and directing her towards a path to their left. Lord Elrond spoke as they began to walk. "Perhaps we could discuss more about your dreams. I would like to know why they affected you the way they did. "

Lúthien nodded. "In my nightmares, I experience pain. When I wake, the pain remains. Something I had forgotten to mention last night, however, is that in one of my dreams, I was injured. I experienced a great deal of pain in my left shoulder. When I woke, it still hurt tremendously. When I touched my hand to it, I was shocked to see my hand covered in blood."

Lord Elrond looked to her, surprise in his eyes. "An injury incurred in your dream appeared on your body? Perhaps you had tossed in your sleep and hurt yourself against a rock or stick?" Lord Elrond suggested, trying to find a reasonable explanation.

Lúthien shook her head. "I would have thought the same thing, except that when I inspected my shoulder, I found no wound."

Lord Elrond looked stumped. "This is most curious." He looked pensive, running this new information through his head.

"Would you like to see the dress I was wearing, my lord?"

"The dress you were wearing when you had the dream?" Lúthien nodded. "Yes, I would indeed."

"It is in my travel sac, my lord. I left it in the stables with Gilleth last night."

Lord Elrond was deep in thought, mulling over everything he had been told and trying to find a meaning to it all. This woman was most curious. If what she had just told him was true, then her injuries from her dreams have caused her _real_ physical harm. This could be a serious problem. It could also have some significant meaning, as well. She could sense things like danger. She had found her way to Rivendel, merely by following her senses. He had spoken to Tirithon during the night, trying to discover anything more about her. He was surprised to learn she had communicated with one of the horses. More intriguing was that the particular horse she had managed to pacify happens to be particularly leery of humans. She was also having violent nightmares involving The Red Eye of Sauron, which she said had caused her great pain. Somehow, it was all connected. It was only a matter of finding out how.

He looked ahead. The stables were within sight. Looking to Lúthien, he saw her smile. She truly was a sweet girl. He could see it in her eyes. He then noticed her state of dress.

"Lady Lúthien Arwen, why do you not wear some of the clothes that were provided?"

Lúthien looked to him, a bit surprised by his sudden question after his long silence. "They are too big, my lord." She said, watching as Lord Elrond stepped forward to open the stable gate for her. Such gentlemen, these elves… "Also, please feel free to call me by either Lúthien or Arwen. It sounds so awkward to hear myself referred to by my full first name."

"About your name… who gave it to you? It's strange that a human girl should have an elfin name, especially since both names are names from my family."

Lúthien looked to him in surprise. "What do you mean, my lord?"

"Lúthien was the name of my great grandmother," he said, looking into Lúthien's eyes. "and Arwen is the name of my daughter."

Lúthien's eyes widened in shock. "Arwen is your daughter? Arwen Undómiel?"

Now it was Lord Elrond's turn to be surprised. "You know of my daughter?"

"Yes, my lord." She spoke, still quite in shock. "I have long thought of her as a mother."

Cerulean Sage

"Oh ho! Lúthien just laid the bomb on Lord Elrond. Well, they laid bombs on each other. Lúthien has no real memory of Arwen. The last time she saw Arwen she was too little to remember. The only things she knows about Arwen is what her parents have told her and the occasional messages and gifts Arwen sends. Now she finds out she's talking to the father of the woman she considers a mother. Grandpa Elrond! Lord Elrond knew of the humans she had helped to bear a child many years ago, he just has yet to put the pieces together.

Also, I wanted to talk about something that came to mind because of a review I got. I didn't mean to make Lúthien seem so image conscious. Let me put it this way. If you were going to see people as majestic as elves, people you had heard nothing but wonderful things about all your life, wouldn't you want to make a good first impression?

About AmberRose's comment, I know about how the original Lúthien had grey eyes, as well as Elladan, Elrohir, Elrond, and Arwen. However, as I mentioned in chapter 6, I am not basing this on the books. I cannot, in good conscience, change the books. I am basing this more on the movie, which I do not feel so bad about changing. I am, of course, adding some elements from the books. However, it is not the books I am changing.

As for her other question. I made the protocol for titles. I made it based tightly on respect and manners, but also by the flow of a language. I want to show respect with out having said respect get in the way. Those that barely know each other are not likely to have lengthy conversations. Once individuals get to know each other on terms where they will have lengthy conversations, titles are no longer required. I educated myself thoroughly on manners and respect from a young age, things no one bothers to teach their children anymore. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only chivalrous person left these days. It's sad that I'm the only gentleman in a room full of men, especially considering I am a lady.

Anyhow, I think that's all that needs explaining. If you're confused about anything, feel free to ask."


	8. Chapter 8 Revised

Lord Elrond was still quite in shock when he finally responded. "Mother?"

Lúthien nodded. "Yes, my lord. In a way, she is my mother." She said, deciding to start from the beginning. "My mother and father had tried for many years to have a child, but never succeeded. Until my mother met an elfin lady named Arwen Undómiel. My mother knew elves were wise, so she begged Arwen to help her bear a child. Arwen agreed. Because of her, my mother finally had a child. I am that child. With out your daughter, I would not exist, so I tend to think of her as a mother."

Lúthien watched as Lord Elrond's expression changed from stunned to a sort of recognition.

"You are the human child she helped bring into this world some 19 years ago?"

Lúthien nodded. Ever more curious, Lord Elrond mused. The more he found out about this girl, the more questions arose. Perhaps he would ask Arwen about this girl. There were still many questions to be answered, and looking at this girl, he could tell there were still many more questions that would arise. Something told him that there was something more to discover, just below the surface. Noticing they had stopped just outside of the stables, he gestured his hand towards the door. Following his silent suggestion, they entered the stables.

Lord Elrond stayed at the entrance. He noticed something peculiar as Lúthien made her way to the back of the stables. As she passed by the stalls, the horses within would poke their heads out to watch her. It was nothing strange to catch the attention of a curious or bored horse or two, but to command the attention of every horse in the stables in such a way… that was indeed odd.

"Lady Lúthien Arwen." Lord Elrond said, causing her to stop and turn to him. "Why do you think it is that these horses find such interest in you?" He said, gesturing his hand to the horses watching her from both sides. He noticed the look on her face. She seemed more surprised than he had been.

"I… I do not know, my lord." She said, looking from one horse to another. Sure, the horses at home looked at her that way, but she always assumed it was because she often brought them treats. These horses had no reason to greet her this way. "I do not know why they greet me so intently."

With that, there was a familiar whinny from the back of the stables. Lúthien smiled. Gilleth was calling for her. Regarding the other horses for a moment more, she made her way back to Gilleth. Why had those horses greeted her that way? Now that she thought about it, it wasn't just those horses. Birds back home would come surprisingly close. She could have reached out to touch some if she truly wanted. She had never tried, not wanting to scare them away. She used to think it was because she would bring left over bread crumbs for them, but now she questioned that.

Now that she thought about it, animals always regarded her in a similar manner. They would stop what they were doing to watch her, or even come to her. She had never thought anything of it since it had always been like that for her. Now that she compared how animals reacted to her, compared to other people, she knew something was different. Coming to Gilleth's stall, she opened it. Gilleth walked out, nudging Lúthien warmly.

"I missed you, too, my friend." She said, wrapping her arms around Gilleth's neck. "After spending so much time with you as my constant companion, last night seemed quite lonely."

It was true. She felt like something was missing with out Gilleth by her side. She stroked Gilleth's neck lovingly. She truly was her best friend. Lord Elrond watched from the door. He recognized that mare. It was the one Arwen had given to the human child nearly a decade ago. At the time, he had thought it was a bad idea to give such a beautiful creature to a human, but now he found he agreed with Arwen's gift. He was worried the human would not appreciate such a fine mare, but now he saw the bond between horse and rider. They were a perfect match. Lord Elrond smiled.

"When Arwen wanted to give you that horse" Lord Elrond began, "I must admit that I protested. I had thought that a human would never appreciate a beautiful mare such as Gilleth, and therefore, not deserve her." He said, Lúthien looking to him as he spoke, still stroking Gilleth's neck. "Now that I see you two interact, I must agree with Arwen's decision. It's plain to see you have a special bond."

Lúthien smiled, her happy grin brightening her whole face. Then there was a sudden commotion outside accompanied by raised voices. Lord Elrond turned on his heal, walking swiftly out to investigate. Lúthien ran to follow him out, Gilleth on her tail. When they exited the stables, they saw a horse and rider racing towards them. Many elves were gathering around due to the commotion. The horse came to an abrupt halt just shy of the stables. Lúthien watched as a beautiful woman dismounted. She had never seen such a beautiful woman before. The woman pulled what seemed to be a small child from the horse's back, turning to meet them as she and Lord Elrond swiftly made their way to her side. Lúthien could see panic in the woman's eyes as she began to speak to Lord Elrond.

"_Father! This is Frodo Baggins. He has been injured by the sword of a nazgûl. You must help him. Hurry, there is no time!"_ She said, placing Frodo into Lord Elrond's waiting arms.

Lord Elrond looked at the dying boy in his arms. His bright blue eyes were glazed over, his skin was pale and covered in a sheen, and he was ice cold and shaking with the touch of death. Lúthien looked at him, her eyes widening. She could sense his life was almost beyond help. He was so sick it shocked her. She had never seen an illness like this before. Then an image came to her. It was the key to the keyhole. She could help this boy!

"_His condition is grave. He needs immediate care." _Lord Elrond said, jumping onto Arwen's horse with Frodo still in his arms with a strength and grace that left Lúthien in awe.

With out a further word, Lord Elrond raced off. Elves moved out of his path as he raced through. Lúthien swung herself onto Gilleth's back with practiced ease. If she lost them from her sight, she might not find them again. She could help that boy, she could feel it in her heart. She could also sense that she should help him for more reasons than just kindness. There was something special about that boy, and she should not allow him to die. Looking at the beautiful elf where she stood, Lúthien could tell she had wanted to go with them. Riding up to Arwen, Lúthien offered her hand.

"Hurry or we'll lose them!"

Lúthien saw a swift flicker of surprise and confusion on her face before it was washed away by determination. With the same grace as Lord Elrond, Arwen mounted Gilleth behind Lúthien. The second Arwen was settled with her arms around Lúthien's tiny waist, Gilleth took off like a shot.

"Do not lose them, Gilleth!" Lúthien shouted, keeping an eye on Lord Elrond racing ahead of them.

Arwen was surprised. Had she just called this horse Gilleth? Now that she thought on it, this horse _was_ Gilleth! This is the horse her father had wanted nearly 19 years ago. The same horse that she had given to the human girl, Lúthien Arwen. How was it that Gilleth was here, in Rivendel? Now that she thought on it, who was the woman riding with her? She had never seen her before, yet she looked so familiar. Arwen shook the rising questions from her head. She had other things to worry about right now, such as the life of Frodo Baggins.

They rode on, following the horse that carried Lord Elrond and the injured Frodo until they came to a stop in front of a white marquee of sorts. It sat on a hill with stairs leading up. Lúthien watched Lord Elrond leap down with Frodo in his arm and begin to ascend the stairs hurriedly. Gilleth came to a stop just beside the stairs. With the same grace as she mounted, Arwen dismounted. Lúthien dismounted as well. Racing swiftly, she raced up the stairs, Arwen not far behind her. They both entered as Lord Elrond was laying Frodo down on a large bed. They watched as Lord Elrond tore Frodo's shirt away, exposing the wound on his chest.

Lord Elrond, taking note of Lúthien and Arwen's presence, spoke. "This wound something I have experienced. I have healed the stab of a morgul blade before, however the victim was never this close to death.." He said tensely. "I will do all I can."

Lúthien came forward to examined it and realized why Frodo was so ill. His illness did not come from normal causes. That wound looked like it had been poisoned somehow. She could see the discoloring that extended from the wound as the poisons spread through his body. Now the image that she had seen made more sense, and she knew what she had to do.

"I think I can help him." Lúthien said eagerly, gaining Lord Elrond and Arwen's full attention. When they looked to where she stood, she was gone. Their eyes caught the hem of her dress as she ran out of the room and out of sight.

"_Who was that, father?"_ Arwen asked, wiping the sweat from Frodo's brow with a cloth.

Lord Elrond looked to her a bit surprised. _"You, of anyone, should recognize her. She is Lúthien Arwen, the human girl you helped bring into this world some 19 years ago."_

The look on Arwen's face was of pure surprise. Lord Elrond could understand how his daughter had not recognized the girl at first. Since the threat of orcs had been growing over the years, he had asked Arwen to stay within a relatively safe distance to the cities of elves. Arwen, not wanting her father to worry, obeyed. This meant she could no longer travel the long distance to Lúthien's village. She hadn't seen Lúthien for almost 15 years. She had sent messages and gifts to make up for her absence, but that was all.

Meanwhile, Lúthien was racing towards Gilleth, her feet a flurry beneath her slim body. She had nearly tumbled down the stairs in her haste, but continued with out a pause. Once at the bottom of the stairs, Lúthien leapt onto Gilleth's back, spurring her to run. She needed a plant with a certain type of fruit. She had seen some in the rock crevices of the mountains near the Loudwater. It was a plant that often went ignored, because its fruit were bitter and its thorns were poisonous. Racing through Rivendel, Lúthien spurred Gilleth to run full speed, nearly running over elves as she passed. She hoped they would forgive her for endangering them the way she was. She would be sure to apologize to Lord Elrond for nearly killing his people when she returned.

Finally, she reached the place where she and Tirithon had entered Rivendel the night before. Racing onward, Lúthien spurred Gilleth onto the path from the mountains. Gilleth, sensing the urgency of the situation, did not slow as the path began to narrow. She continued to race as fast as her hoofs could manage, trusting Lúthien to guide them safely. They raced past the place where Lúthien had met Tirithon and Gonnon the night before, leaving the sentry currently posted in confusion. She silently hoped they would not try to stop her on her way back.

Gilleth continued to race, her hooves tearing at the ground as she galloped dangerously close to the ledge. Realizing how dangerous their speed was, Gilleth was not afraid but invigorated. She always was a daring spirit. Lúthien guided Gilleth, warning her about the upcoming dangers in the path. Gilleth would slow somewhat to compensate for the upcoming turns, and speed up when Lúthien said the path was safe to. They sped along, taking on the mountain pass at speeds that would make anyone watching consider them insane… or suicidal.

Then Lúthien could hear it, the rush of the Loudwater. It was just ahead. That meant the plants were very close. Slowing Gilleth to a swift trot, they followed the path until Lúthien saw what she was looking for. It grew fairly high in the rocks. Standing on her feet, Lúthien would not be able to reach them, but standing on Gilleth, she just might be able to. It would be a stretch, but she needed to try. Gilleth stopped just below the plants, sidling close to the rock precipice, allowing Lúthien to reach for the plant. Bracing herself against the rock, she stood upon Gilleth's back.

She reached out for the plant, but it was just barely out of her grasp. Pressing her hand against the rock to steady herself, she stood on her tiptoes. She could see the fruit. That's what she needed. Stretching herself to her limit, she grabbed for it. It was still too far. Inching further down Gilleth's back to the higher part of her croup, she reached again. Her fingers just brushed against the bottom of the fruit. She was already stretched to her limit and she could still not reach it. Looking down, Lúthien refused to jump for it. If she jumped and failed to regain her landing upon Gilleth's back, it was very possible she would fall down the mountainside. She was not stupid, but she was growing desperate. An innocent young boy was dying as she wasted her time trying to reach for this darned fruit. Throwing caution to the wind, she gripped the stem of the plant, despite its poison thorns. She hissed as some of the thorns pierced her skin, sinking into her palm. Ignoring the pain, she pulled the plant towards her, causing more thorns to imbed themselves into her skin. Reaching with her other hand, balancing precariously on Gilleth's back, she plucked the fruit from the surrounding thorns.

With the precious fruit in her grasp, she let the plant go. It whipped out of her hand, pulling thorns from her skin ruthlessly, and causing still others to break of painfully into her palm. She dropped onto Gilleth's back, gripping her tightly for stability. Once she was steady, she mounted Gilleth in a riding position. She now noticed a problem. The path was too narrow to turn around on. Gilleth, too, noticed this problem and solved it quickly. Rearing up onto hind legs, she balanced boldly on two legs as she turned. If she lost her balance, they would both tumble down the mountain side. Whether it was by luck or grace, Gilleth did not lose her balance, and they were soon facing the way back to Rivendel. Lúthien let go of the breath she didn't realize she had been holding as Gilleth began to race.

"You, my friend, are either very lucky, very nimble, or very stupid." Lúthien managed to joke, her stomach still twisting. Gilleth whinnied loudly, obviously proud with herself.

Lúthien was not afraid of heights, but she was not fond of them, either. Looking down to see hundreds upon hundreds of feet of distance between you and the ground, knowing that if you fell the chances of survival were slim to nil, and knowing that the chances of falling were only a matter of two tiny horse hooves on a narrow ledge would put fear into anyone. Lúthien looked down at her throbbing hand. It bled freely and her entire palm and wrist were already enflamed. Her body was already trying to fight the poison. The plant's thorns were coated in a waxy oil that it produced to detour anything hungry enough to eat its fruit. Bleeding would help flush some of the poison. She knew the thorns still within her hand were a big problem, but she did not have the time to take them out. She had to hurry back to Rivendel before the plant's poison reached her brain and she could no longer think clearly.

Racing onward, she concentrated on the path ahead, warning Gilleth about its dangers. Minutes passed as they raced madly towards Rivendel. Her arm began to sting as the poison pushed its way through her bloodstream. Her skin turned red and enflamed as the effects of the poison spread. Still they raced on. Lúthien's blood stained Gilleth's left side, marring her beautiful white fur with smeared, bloody handprints. Lúthien looked down to see Rivendel. It was even more beautiful in daylight, though Lúthien could not spare the time to truly appreciate the scene it made.

She looked ahead to see the two guards from before, obviously preparing to stop her this time. She wanted to tell them she was in an emergency and that she could not afford to stop, but she could only manage to say one thing before she would run them over.

"Please, move!"

Not wanting to attack a woman, especially with out any great reason, and not wanting to get run over, the moved swiftly to the sides with familiar elfin grace. Lúthien raced by astride Gilleth, traveling at their same dangerously swift pace. Both guards were left to wonder if she was extremely fearless to be racing such a narrow path at that speed, or completely insane. Lúthien's chest burned with the spread of poison as she raced into Rivendel. Remembering the way to the marquee where the ill boy waited, she spurred Gilleth on. Her breath constricted in pain from the poison. It hurt just to breath. Her eyes watered at the burning, stinging pain in her chest. Her eyesight was beginning to blur, but not from tears. Her thinking was becoming cloudy.

Then the building she was looking for came into view. With a mental shake, she threw back the fog that was clouding in her mind. Moments later, Gilleth came to a halt next to the stairs leading up to the place where the boy was laying in bed. Slipping haphazardly from Gilleth's back, Lúthien fell to the ground on her hands and knees. The poison was making her body hard to control and the impact of her hand hitting the ground reopened the cuts. She heard someone behind her yell and footsteps coming quickly towards her, but ignored it. Scrambling to her unsteady legs, she began to run up the stairs. Stumbling often, her hand left bloody smears on the stone steps. The fog in her mind was getting harder to hold at bay, especially now. Running was causing her poisoned blood to pump through her more swiftly.

She reached the entrance of the building, falling against the doorway to keep herself from falling to the floor. She still gripped the apple sized, green-yellow fruit tightly in her uninjured hand.

"Lady Lúthien Arwen! What has happened? You are bleeding!" She head Lord Elrond's voice ask.

Despite the fog creeping in her mind, she knew what she had to do. Her body was barely responding to her. She had to struggle just to stay upright. With another mental shake, she cleared most of the fog away. Willing herself against the poison, she gained control of her body once more. Standing herself and walking swiftly into the room, she looked to see Lord Elrond and Arwen staring at her in surprise, the boy still in a terminal condition. Stopping at the side of the bed, Lúthien began tearing at the fruit. She could hear Lord Elrond and Arwen's questioning voices, but ignored them. She was using all of her concentration to keep the effects of the poison at bay. Though she was working hard to keep her eyes focused, she could not stop the blackness that was creeping in from the rim of her vision.

She looked down at the large, hard seed in her hand. It was about the same size as a walnut, except black and smooth. She needed to crack it open quickly. She could feel herself losing control of her body again. This time, she would not be able to take control back. The poison was winning. Looking around for something to break open the nut, she spied the sword at Arwen's waist. Reaching out, she pulled the sword from its sheath. She still heard Lord Elrond and Arwen's questioning voices, though she was not sure if they had been speaking the whole while or not. Lúthien knew her concept of time was slipping.

Working as quickly as her shaking and weakening body would allow, she placed the nut on the ground. Placing Arwen's sword over the top, she stomped down with her foot. The shell cracked with the force. Letting go of the sword, Lúthien grabbed up the seed, fumbling to pry it open. The blackness was taking over her vision. Prying it open, she pulled out the germ. It was a light grey color, somewhat porous, and slightly soft. She gripped the sword at her side by the blade, not caring as it cut into her already bloody hand. Pushing the germ against the sharp edge, she cut it into two halves. Too weak to stand, she clawed her way onto Frodo's bed. With her shaking fingers and failing vision, she managed to slip half of the seed into Frodo's wound, which had been expertly cleaned by Lord Elrond beforehand.

Sensing someone at her side, she allowed herself to fall in their direction. The person, who happened to be Lord Elrond, caught her. She did not see the concern or surprise in his eyes as he held her to face him. Her vision failed her as the blackness took over her vision completely. Groping with her hands, her hands soon found his. Slipping the other half of the seed in his hand, she squeezed his hand closed over it.

"He needs… this. Later." She said, trying to fight against the blackness that was taking her, just long enough to say what needed to be said. "Give him… fruit juice… for strength. He needs…"

Then she fell silent and her body went limp.

_  
_Cerulean Sage

"Oh no! I killed Lúthien! Bad, bad me! Leaving at such a cliffhanger, as well. I am such a bad person. D Oh well…

Let me see. To picture the thorns, think of the thorns you find on a rose, except longer. To picture the fruit think of something the color of a lime, the size of a small apple, and oval shaped. To picture the seed, think of a big, black marble. The germ is the inside of a seed. The part of a peanut you eat is the germ. I think that's it. Any questions or comments, feel free to put them in a review."


	9. Chapter 9

Lord Elrond and Arwen cast each other worried glances as he set the other half of the seed on the table beside Frodo's bed. Slipping his other arm beneath Lúthien, he lifted her like a child. Her long braid dangled as he carried her over to the bed next to Frodo's.

"_What is the trouble with her, father?"_ Arwen asked, walking with her father as he laid Lúthien down.

"_I know not, Arwen." _He said, turning over her left hand. _"Though I soon will."_ With that, he pulled out one of the thorns imbedded in Lúthien's bloody palm. _"Poison."_ he said, his voice showing his surprise.

He had seen these thorns before, and knew what plants they came from. He worried his upper lip as he pulled out more of the thorns. It seemed as though she had gripped the plant roughly, despite the thorns. Her palm and fingers were littered with holes and deep scratches. He had known people to be rendered unconscious for days from less, depending on the situation. If the injury had not been giving at least _some_ treatment to slow the effects of the poison before proper treatment could be given, they would slip into unconsciousness, which could last for days. Then nothing more could be done until the body cleansed itself of the poison. Once the person woke, they would be very ill for about a week. With elfin medicine, their illness would only last a day or so. That plant truly was a nasty one.

"_Will she fair all right?"_ Arwen asked, standing to watch over her father as he began to wrap Lúthien's hand.

"_Yes. I am not sure how long she will be out of consciousness, but when she wakes, I can assure you she will be quite unhappy." _He said, a small measure of humor in his voice. _"The poison from this plant travels through blood and settles in the muscles throughout the body, including the brain. The blood, itself, could be cleansed within mere hours of the poisoning, however, the tissues in the body will remain effected by the poison. Once her body has filtered enough poison from her body tissue, she will wake. Then it will be a simple matter of giving her the proper medicine to aid her body to purify the rest of the poison."_

"_That is good."_ Arwen said, sitting on the bed and stroking Lúthien's hand gently. _"Now that I look down on her sleeping face, I see the little girl I knew many years ago. There was always something within her eyes that made her seem… special."_

Lord Elrond noticed the way motherly way she spoke about Lúthien.

"_I was there when she was born. I remember the first time I looked into her eyes. They were so bright, so beautiful. I could see so much life within those eyes."_ She said, her voice distance, but her gaze warm. _"She was such a beautiful baby, and when her mother asked me to name her, I though immediately of the name Lúthien. Of course," _she said, stroking Lúthien's cheek with the back of her hand, _"I never thought she would grow to be this beautiful."_

Well that explained her name. Lord Elrond smiled at Arwen. _"You are fond of her."_

Arwen nodded to him. _"Yes. It saddens me to know I missed much of her childhood. She was such a precious child." _Her face shadowed with sadness as she looked back to Lúthien. _"Look, now. She is a woman, a beautiful and willful woman, still so full of life."_

"_She reminds me of someone I know. Someone who was once a precocious and precious little girl. One who came to grow into a beautiful and headstrong woman."_ He said, wrapping his arms around his daughter lovingly. _"You wouldn't happen to know who that woman is, would you?"_ Her father asked, smiling.

"_Oh father!"_ Arwen laughed, hugging her father back lovingly.

A low moan from behind them brought them out of their warm moment. They separated, moving to Frodo's bedside. He was no longer shaking, though sweat covered his ashen brow. Arwen wiped his forehead with the cloth she had used before.

"_Do you believe the seed Lúthien Arwen put within his wound will help?" _She asked, pouring water from a pitcher into a bowl.

"_I know not, Arwen, though he does appear to be fairing a little better." _He said, watching as Arwen wet the cloth in the bowl before placing it on Frodo's forehead.

"_He is cold."_ Arwen stated. _"Could you lift him so I may pull the covers back?"_

Lord Elrond complied, lifting Frodo off the blankets. Frodo moaned slightly at the movement. Arwen pulled them back as he lowered Frodo back to the bed. She felt sorry for him. He was just a young hobbit boy. He shouldn't have a wound such as this. Covering him, she turned to her father.

"_Would you like me to stay and tend to them?" _Arwen asked.

"_No. I will stay. You go and rest. You look tired."_

Arwen nodded in agreement, feeling suddenly tired at the mention of rest. She had had a long and harrowing ride, and sleep called to her.

"_Thank you, father. I will come find you later."_

Lord Elrond nodded as Arwen let herself out. Walking to Frodo's bedside table, he lifted the half seed. Fingering it absentmindedly, he wondered exactly how long 'later' was. Lúthien had said to wait until later to use the second half, but fell unconscious before he could find out exactly how much later. With a sigh, he set the seed back down. He would just have to figure that out on his own. Walking back to Lúthien's bed, he laid her beneath the covers. Taking a seat between the two beds, he stationed himself there for the rest of the day, only moving occasionally to tend to Frodo.

Acknowledging Lúthien's last piece of advice, he had ordered for some fruit juice to be brought. At first, getting Frodo to drink any had been a complete failure. The juice had simply dribbled down his chin, causing Lord Elrond to have to wipe his face clean. After a couple hours, however, Frodo had begun to swallow some. It wasn't much, but enough to be considered improvement. Dusk was only a few hours away, and Lord Elrond found himself hungry and weary from nursing Frodo all day. He would leave them in the care of a capable nurse, giving him the chance to eat, deal with any other matters that needed his attention, and sleep. With specific orders, and faith in the capable hands of the kindly elfin gentleman, he excused himself for the rest of the night.

Lúthien shivered in the dark, wrapping her arms around herself. It was cold, so cold.

"Where am I?" She asked aloud, her voice quivering as she shook from cold. Her voice echoed around her, mixing to sound like a thousand voices before fading away. Lúthien shivered again, not from cold, but from the haunting echoes. This place frightened her, not like her nightmares. This place was cold, empty, and devoid of life. This was no dream. This was something else. Last thing she remembered, she had been poisoned from that plant. Could she be… dead? Panic filled her as she looked around. She was suddenly very frightened of being in such a cold and lifeless place for all eternity.

"What have I done?" She whispered, fear and cold causing her voice to tremble. The echo filled the emptiness before fading once more. She felt as though she were made of ice. It was so cold. A tear fell from her eye, disappearing into the endless blackness. Looking at her hand, she found herself growing angry. She did not want to be in such a terrible place forever, especially because of some wretched plant. She started running, searching for anything besides the black emptiness and silence. She ran for what seemed like forever She was getting nowhere. She was nowhere.

While she was running, she thought of many things. She thought of her mother and father. She thought about Gilleth. She thought about the beautiful lakes, streams, fields, and hills. She thought about the trees and the plants. She thought about everything and everyone she had left behind. She cried as she ran, her tears falling from her eyes into blackness. What about her promise to her parents to be safe? How would they react to know she had died through sheer stupidity? How would they act to know they had lost their only child?

The tears continued to fall. What about Gilleth? She had left her with out even saying goodbye. How could she leave things this way? She was so young. She had never learned the joy of motherhood. She hadn't even experienced love! For Valar's sake… she hadn't even been kissed! Lúthien frowned deeply. What about that boy she had tried to help? Had she even been successful? Could she live with herself for all eternity, never knowing if the boy pulled through? Part of her felt a responsibility to that boy, and the rest of her had accepted that responsibility. She stopped running. She had to get out of this place, and running wasn't doing it. If only she knew how. Falling to her knees, she began to sob.

"I want to be away from this place." She said, tears falling from her eye to disappear into oblivion. The echoes filled the empty silence, before again fading away. "I want see the sun rise again." She whispered, too quite to cause an echo. "I want be away from this lifeless cold." She said, louder, causing the echoes to surround her. Without giving the echoes a chance to fade away, she screamed at the top of her lungs. "I want to live!" She cried, pouring her very heart and soul into that statement.

Then something struck her. She was glowing! A feeling of warmth touched her. She cried, embracing the heat and light. "Yes. Please, let me live. I don't want to be here." She chanted, embracing the growing heat, pouring her heart and soul into the good feeling the light brought. The light grew and she no longer felt cold. Soon, she could no longer see herself. Only the light filled her vision, and comfortable heat coursed through her.

Then the light faded, and it was dark again. Afraid she was back in that horrible place, her heart began to race in fear. Her heart! Sitting up swiftly, her eyes shot open. She looked around, her eyes adjusting to the soft light that filtered in from outside. This was real! Touching her body, just to be sure, she was relieved to find it was truly real. She was awake and alive! She was so happy that the ache in her head and body seemed inconsequential. She smiled from ear to ear, almost feeling like singing. She was alive!

She jumped out of the bed, still smiling brightly. Unfortunately, her legs tangled in the blankets and she plummeted to the ground.

"Ow." She moaned, rubbing her side. That hurt. Her smile broadened. You can't feel pain when you're dead. There was no doubt she was alive.

At the sound of the thud, Nestoron, the elf nurse Lord Elrond had left in charge in his absence, rushed into the room. He had stepped out for a moment of fresh air and was surprised to come back to find Lúthien on the floor, squirming out of the blankets entangled around her legs. When he had first come in to find her laying there so peacefully, he had been stricken by her beauty. He was ultimately surprised when he found out she was only a human, and saddened when he learned what had befallen her. When he had changed the bandages on her hand, he realized she would probably be unconscious for about a week. He was shocked beyond words to see her awake, and moving around with obvious strength.

Walking swiftly to her side to help her up, he stared at her with wide eyes. She was even more beautiful when she smiled. Speaking of which, why was she smiling? She should feel terrible from the poison, let alone even be awake!

"Thank you, sir." She said brightly, smiling thankfully at him as he helped her gain her feet.

"You… you should not be awake, my lady!" He said, his voice portraying the shock he felt.

Lúthien looked at him with confusion. "Why not?" She asked, suddenly afraid. "Was I… dead?"

"No, my lady, merely unconscious." He said. Normally he would have found that statement funny, but he was too shocked at the moment to laugh. "I do not understand. With the amount of poison that was in your system, you should have been unconscious for at _least_ 4 days. Even _that_ would have been some sort of miracle. I have seen bigger men with less severe poisoning from that plant unconscious for 3 and 4 days."

"How long was I unconscious?" Lúthien asked, finding herself truly curious.

"My lady, you were unconscious for less than a day." He said, his voice portraying his astonishment. "As it is, you should at _least_ feel very ill."

Lúthien shifted in discomfort. Could what he said be true? If so, then she had even more questions that needed answering. "Well, my head and body ache, though it is not so bad that I cannot deal with it."

"This is nothing short of amazing, my lady. I must go and inform Lord Elrond of your miraculous recovery!"

She nodded her head to Nestoron, as if giving him silent permission. He exited swiftly with the same elfin grace everyone else in Rivendel seemed to possess. Lúthien looked around, noticing Frodo laying in the bed. She smiled brightly. Walking to him, she looked him over. He looked better than he did earlier, but not well. Noticing the seed half on the table next to her, she fingered it gently. Why hadn't they used it, yet? Pulling back the covers from his chest, she saw the discoloration from the poison was greatly reduced. Pealing off the bandages over his wound, she saw that it looked better as well. She could sense that the seed half inside was spent.

Squeezing the wound firmly, she pinched the seed half out. Frodo moaned in pain as the wound bled a little. She always felt guilty when she had to administer this kind of tough love. She knew what she was doing hurt, but she also knew it needed to be done. Looking at the seed from the wound, she could see it had changed from a pale grey to a deep purple color. Placing it on the table, she slipped the still unused half into the wound. He moaned in pain once more, but soon relaxed visibly. With that done, she folded his bandages back over the wound.

Looking on the table again, she poked at the used seed half. She could sense it was soaked with that strange poison that was in Frodo. She could not let this linger around for some poor, unsuspecting animal to eat, or let it make its way outside where it could poison the earth. It needed to be destroyed. She slipped it into her pocket. She would burn it later. Her eyes still cast down at the table, she noticed the juice in a pitcher, a cup beside it. As she poured it, she found she was quite thirsty, and hungry as well. However…

Sitting at the head of Frodo's bed, she pulled him into her lap into as best of a sitting position as she could manage. For someone so tiny, he surely was heavy! Either that, or she was still weak from the poison in her system. Perhaps a bit of both, she mused. Placing the cup to his mouth, she tipped the cup slightly, letting the liquid wet his lips.

"Please drink it, little one." She cooed softly. "It will give you the strength to heal." She spoke soothingly, her voice melodious. She found that soft tones and sweet words helped the ill feel better.

At her encouragement, Frodo's lips opened ever so slightly. Lúthien let the juice run into his mouth a little at a time. His swallows were weak, but he continued to drink. He had emptied half of the cup before letting his mouth close once more. He had had enough. Reaching forward, she set the cup back on the table. Shifting around, she laid Frodo back down gently. Stroking his forehead tenderly, she began to sing. She had found that singing made the ill feel better. It lifted their spirits, helping them to heal. Her voice rang out, clear and pure, soft and sweet like a mother's lullaby.

"_When in the springtime of the year _

_When the trees are crowned with leaves _

_When the ash and oak, and the birch and yew _

_Are dressed in ribbons fair_

_When owls call the breathless moon _

_In the blue veil of the night _

_The shadows of the trees appear _

_Amidst the lantern light"_

She continued to sing gently to Frodo, not noticing the three elves that had appeared in the doorway. They stood there behind her, watching her, and listening to her beautiful song.

"_We've been rambling all the night _

_And some time of this day _

_Nothing turning back again _

_we bring a garland gay _

_Who will go down to those shady groves _

_And summon the shadows there _

_And tie a ribbon on those sheltering arms _

_In the springtime of the year _

_The songs of birds seem to fill the wood _

_That when the fiddler plays _

_All their voices can be heard _

_Long past their woodland days" _

The elves closed their eyes, greatly enjoying the words of the song and the voice that sang them. It was an unexpected, but much welcome gift. The images her words and voice created danced in their minds. Elves had a fondness for beauty, this song was no exception.

"_We've been rambling all the night _

_And some time of this day _

_Nothing turning back again _

_we bring a garland gay _

_And so they linked their hands and danced _

_Round in circles and in rows _

_And so the journey of the night descends _

_When all the shades are gone _

'_A garland gay we bring you here _

_And at your door we stand _

_It is a sprout well budded out _

_The work of Our Lord's hand' _

_We've been rambling all the night _

_And some time of this day _

_Nothing turning back again _

_we bring a garland gay _

_We've been rambling all the night _

_And some time of this day _

_Nothing turning back again _

_we bring a garland gay."_

Her voice faded, ending the sweet lullaby that had the three elves so enchanted. They stood at the doorway, neither speaking as they watched her gently stroke Frodo's forehead. She waited for them to speak. She knew they were there. She had spotted them out of the corner of her eye while she had been singing. They had not bothered to stop her song, so she had not bothered to stop singing. She decided to be the one to break the silence.

"Will you come in, or continue to stand there in the doorway?" She asked, not bothering to look behind her.

Nestoron was a little startled, as was Arwen. They were shocked that she had known they were there with out turning around. They hadn't made a sound the whole while, and they had thought she could not see them from that angle. Lord Elrond spoke, obviously not the least bit surprised.

"Lady Lúthien Arwen, if I had not seen it with my own eyes, I would not believe it. You being awake and completely healthy defies any explanation I might attempt." He said, walking into the room. The other two followed him in. "How is it that this is possible?"

Lúthien turned to them, standing from Frodo's bed. "I do not know, myself, my lord." She said, regarding each elf in turn. "I had thought I was dead, to be honest. The next thing I knew, I was awake, and very happy to be so." Lúthien had no idea why she had woken up the way she did, so she wasn't comfortable talking about it until she had at least spent some time trying to figure it out on her own.

Lúthien looked at the woman elf in front of her. She was familiar, besides the fact that she had given her a ride on Gilleth earlier that day. A flash of memory struck her, an image from many years ago. It was a face, her face. She examined this woman more closely, staring directly into her crystalline blue eyes. There was something very familiar about this woman.

"I do not mean to seem rude, my lady, but have we met?" She asked, addressing the larger woman. "You seem very familiar to me."

Lord Elrond smiled. "Lady Lúthien Arwen, let me introduce you to my daughter, Arwen Undómiel." He finished, his smile broadening.

Lúthien was amazed. This was Arwen? Lúthien was struck dumb. Her words failed her, just when she was wishing to be most articulate. Unable to speak, Lúthien did the only thing she could think to do. She stepped forward and embraced Arwen. Smiling, Arwen wrapped her arms around Lúthien. Nestoron was most confused, but Lord Elrond was most amused. Pulling back to look at Arwen at arms' length, Lúthien smiled brightly.

"It has been many years, my second mother!" Lúthien said, laughing merrily. "I cannot believe I am here, with you. I never expected to find you in Rivendel!" She exclaimed, excitement ringing through her voice.

Arwen laughed as well. "It has been many years, indeed. You were but a tiny child when I last saw you. Look, now! You are a woman! I am even more surprised to find you here in Rivendel. I never imagined I would meet you so suddenly. I am very happy I have, though."

The two women smiled at each other. "We must catch up on old times and get to know each other again. I would love to hear all about your childhood." Arwen said, still quite happy. "Tell me, do you have a husband?"

Lúthien balked at this. "No. I'm afraid I have no love interest to speak of."

Lord Elrond spoke, interrupting the merry moment. "We will leave you two ladies to get reacquainted." He said gesturing to himself and Nestoron. Nestoron took the hint and let himself out. "I will retire for the night. I hope to see both of you tomorrow morning for breakfast."

Arwen nodded. "Yes, father. We will be there."

Lord Elrond smile and nodded. Then he walked out, explaining the story behind Lúthien and Arwen to Nestoron. He was sure that scene they had just made was quite confusing. Left alone, the girls talked late into the night. The first few hours were spend with Arwen demanding to know every little detail about Lúthien's life. The rest was with Lúthien demanding to know about every detail of Arwen's life. They talked throughout the night until their throats were sore and voices weak. They had cliqued immediately.

Lúthien was very excited to pry into Arwen's love interest in a certain human. Lúthien always did love a good love story. She was always excited to hear about others' happy love lives. It gave her hope for her own. Seeing how Lúthien was so excited to hear about her love life, and had none of her own, Arwen became quite determined to get Lúthien to meet as many handsome bachelors as possible. Lúthien had blushed quite furiously at this idea, declining as politely as possible. Of course, Arwen would have none of it and began naming some of the more eligible bachelors.

Morning came fairly quickly, finding the girls still gossiping like old maids. Of course, Lúthien had made sure to tend to Frodo as they talked. She was still concerned for the boy, thought he was looking much better. His health was much improved, though she could tell he was still very weak from the battle with death he had been so close to losing only the day before. He would be asleep for at least another day or two. His skin had regained some color. The discoloration of the poison had faded from his body. His eyes were no longer wide and glazed, but closed in restfulness. He no longer shook or sweat. He laid there, resting deeply and regaining his strength. Looking down at him, Lúthien realized the second seed half was probably spent as well. Walking to his bedside, she continued with her conversation with Arwen.

"I know of the most beautiful places in Rivendel. I could take you to see them. They are perfect places for a romantic picnic." Arwen said, hinting romance at Lúthien as she pulled back Frodo's bandages.

"Oh Arwen!" Lúthien laughed, gently squeezing Frodo's wound. "I will find romance in my own, good time. Though I would still love to see those places you speak of."

Frodo moaned in pain as Lúthien pinched the second seed half from his wound. It was a deep purple color, as well. Arwen watched as Lúthien placed it in her pocket.

"I need something to close his wound." Lúthien commented, looking around for the proper items.

"Nestoron can do that. He is a very experienced nurse. Father expects us for breakfast soon." Arwen said, looking out to the rising sun. She looked to Lúthien, a smile crossing her face. "Speaking of Nestoron, he is available. He is a very kind elf. I think he many have taken a fancy in you, as well."

Lúthien looked at Arwen with fake anger, her hands fisted at her hips. "Arwen…" she began, her voice harsh through a merry smile, "stop trying to pair me with every bachelor in Rivendel!" She laughed.

Arwen laughed. "Alright. I will stop…" she said, adding a pause before she spoke the next half, "but after breakfast, there are a few handsome young elves I'd love for you to meet." She finished, her grin wicked.

"Arwen…" Lúthien warned, unable to keep the laughter from her voice and eyes. "You are worse than Gilleth!"

The two girls continued to bond until Nestoron came to relieve them. Arwen had told him that Frodo's wound was ready to be closed, all the while throwing meaningful glances at Lúthien while Nestoron wasn't looking. Lúthien threw threatening looks back to Arwen. Her threateningly glares would have been more fearsome had Lúthien not been blushing.

Cerulean Sage

"9th chapter? I think so. To my dismay, I have stopped receiving reviews. This makes me wonder if anyone is actually reading my story. I was a few days ahead of schedule, so I decided to sit back and wait for reviews for a day or two. I have received none. This saddens me. If anyone out there is reading this, please review. You don't have to say anything. Just sign your name or something. To have no one reading my story is like a chef watching his latest creation go untouched. Please, if you have but a moment, review. If only to let me know you're out there.

By the way. The name of the song Lúthien sang was The Mummers' Dance by Loreena McKennitt. She is an awesome artist, and if you don't know her and haven't heard her songs, I strongly suggest you find her music."


	10. Chapter 10

Now excused to attend breakfast, the girls walked through the streets of Rivendel, bickering playfully all the while. During the night, their relationship had developed into one of sisterly adoration. Lúthien still considered Arwen as a mother, though they acted much more like sisters. It was amazing how quickly they had taken to each other. It was almost as if they had grown together as best friends all their lives. Of course, Arwen was charming and warm hearted. It would be hard for anyone not to take to her immediately. The same went for Lúthien. She was deeply sensitive and quick witted. One would have to be crazy not to smile along with her. Of course, there was so much more about both these wonderful girls. To truly know all their charms, one had to know them personally.

It seems an incredibly short time had passed when they reached the home of Lord Elrond. As they approached the front doors, Lady Siriowen opened them from inside, stepping aside as a gesture for them to both enter. Lúthien paused a moment, feeling uncomfortable to enter before Arwen. Arwen noticed the bit of hesitation, but said nothing.

"_Good morning, Lady Siriowen. Have we kept my father waiting at length?"_

"_Good morning, Lady Arwen. No. Lord Elrond is awaiting you in the dining hall as we speak."_ Lady Siriowen said, addressing both of them with her eyes.

Though Lúthien had not become an expert in Elvish since the two days and nights she had been in Rivendel, she was sure she had picked out how to greet someone in Elvish. In truth, she had always wanted to learn how to speak Elvish. It sounded so musical and elegant. Perhaps she would ask Arwen to teach her. With that thought, a smile crept over her face. She followed behind Arwen as they walked through the expansive house. The thought crossed Lúthien's mind that perhaps this was a castle, thought she couldn't be sure. She had never seen a castle before. As they walked through one of the many beautiful corridors, Lúthien decided to bring about the topic of learning Elvish.

"Arwen?" Arwen looked to Lúthien, acknowledging her as they continued walking. "Could you teach me to speak Elvish?"

A brief look of surprise crossed Arwen's face before being washed away by a look of delight. "It is a difficult language to learn, but of course. I would be overjoyed to teach you."

Lúthien smiled from ear to ear, causing Arwen to smile happily as well. They continued walking, reaching the end of the corridor. Arwen pressed against the doors with her hands, opening them to reveal a marvelous dining chamber. It was so elegant in its structure, design, and décor that it made Lúthien gasp in awe. It was huge, obviously build to hold large numbers of people. It looked like it had came out of a fantasy. At the nearest end sat a few people. Lúthien recognized Lord Elrond immediately, but not the two elves that sat beside him. They sat on either side of Lord Elrond. They were both very handsome with dark brown hair, and they looked so alike that Lúthien was left with no doubt that they were related. Perhaps brothers?

Upon Arwen and her entry, the elves seated at the table stood to acknowledge them. Such gentlemen, these elves… Lúthien could not believe how well mannered all the men were. They obviously held more respect for women than the men she had known. Before coming to Rivendel, the only man she could consider a true gentleman was her own father. Lúthien regarded the two strange elves passively as she and Arwen entered, but soon found herself slightly anxious under their intent gazes. Their gazes remained solely on her, never faltering or wavering. She felt somewhat exposed under the scrutiny of their eyes and decided to concentrate, instead, on the warm smile of Lord Elrond.

The only person more surprised than Elladan at Lúthien's entrance was probably Elrohir, but it was very close call. Their father had told them they'd have a special guest attending breakfast with them. When they had questioned him, he only said it would be a lady and that her name was Lúthien Arwen. They had both been a little surprised at the name, causing them to bombard their father with more questions. They had been in the process of interrogating him when the doors had opened.

They stared in barely sustained shock when they saw two beautiful elves walk into the room. One, they recognized as their sister, Arwen. The other, they had deduced to be the aforementioned Lúthien Arwen. With something very near to disbelief, they realized Lúthien Arwen was even more beautiful than Arwen. Why had they never seen or even heard of her before? A striking creature such as she would have to be locked away her whole life to not be know. Arwen was known by every elf in existence for her beauty, so why had they not heard a single word about Lúthien Arwen?

Coming to stand before him, Lúthien decided to use the little bit of Elvish she had picked up on thus far. _"Good morning, Lord Elrond." _She said, bowing her head to him respectfully. Lord Elrond looked pleasantly surprised while Arwen simply looked surprised. She hadn't taught Lúthien to say that, yet!

"_Good morning, Lady Lúthien Arwen."_ Lord Elrond said, still smiling. "I take it Arwen has been teaching you some Elvish?"

Lúthien chuckled lightly. "No. Not yet, my lord."

Lord Elrond raised a single eyebrow at her statement, but left it at that. "I would like to introduce you to my two sons." He said, gesturing his arm sweepingly to the two boys. With familiar elfin grace, they came swiftly to stand before her. "Elladan" As if on cue, Elladan took up Lúthien's small hand and brought it to his lips for a gentle kiss. "and Elrohir." Lord Elrond finished. With the mention of his name, Elrohir took up Lúthien's other hand, kissing it as well.

Lúthien could feel a burning blush make its way to her face. Having two very handsome elves kissing both of her hands at the same time was probably the last thing she had expected this morning when she came to have breakfast with Lord Elrond, aside from _being_ breakfast. Releasing her hands, they stepped back.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Lúthien Arwen." Elladan said, his voice melodic with bass.

Lúthien smiled at him, not knowing what to say in response. She was still fighting the heated blush that threatened to appear on her face.

"Indeed, it truly is a pleasure." Elrohir said, his voice not as deep, but equally as melodious.

Lúthien could easily imagine falling asleep to the music in their voices. Finally finding the words, she smiled and nodded politely at them in turn.

"I am very delighted to have met both of you, though I fear the pleasure is all mine."

It was then that something dawned on her. If they were Lord Elrond's sons, then that would make them Arwen's brothers. Looking to Arwen, she was slightly displeased. Arwen was giving her those suggestive glances she had been giving her earlier with Nestoron. Glaring idle threats at Arwen, she heard Lord Elrond's voice ring out once more.

"Please, have a seat so that we may begin our breakfast."

Lúthien smiled and nodded as she made a step towards the table. She stopped in astonishment as Elrohir pulled out a chair for her, gesturing at it with a slight nod. Feeling a bit uneasy, she made to sit in the chair. As she sat, Elrohir gently pushed her chair in for her. He then sat himself at her side where he had been sitting before. Lúthien wondered half in amusement, and half in horror, if he would try to feed her as well. She had been charmed by so much gentlemanly behavior, but it was beginning to make her a little uneasy. To her relief, Lúthien watched as Elladan seated Arwen with the same gentlemanly manner.

Once everyone was seated, Lord Elrond seated himself, nodding a gesture to the other end of the room. Following the direction of his gesture, she watched as an elf exited through doors at the opposite end of the dining hall. Lúthien looked back to see Arwen making suggestive glances at her and Elrohir again. Ooh Arwen was going to pay! Fighting the heat of a blush, Lúthien glared at Arwen. Arwen just smiled in amusement. Glancing over to Elladan, she noticed he and Elrohir were also sending meaningful glances toward each other. Lúthien was glad when Lord Elrond finally broke the silence.

"So, Lady Lúthien Arwen, how did you know a seed from the fruit of a Night's Bane would cure the poison from a morgul blade?"

Lúthien looked at Lord Elrond with a slight bit of confusion. "What is a morgul blade?"

Lord Elrond looked stunned by her question. "A morgul blade is a weapon of the nazgûl, Lady Lúthien Arwen."

Lúthien almost hated to ask this next question. She knew it would end in her embarrassment, but she couldn't stifle her curiosity. "What is a nazgûl?" The strange looks she was receiving from everyone confirmed her fear. She could feel her embarrassment rising and shifted uncomfortably. Even Lord Elrond was looking at her strangely. To her slight relief, Elladan broke the uncomfortable silence.

"A nazgûl, my lady, is a ring-wraith who serves under Sauron." He explained.

Having more knowledge on this subject, Lord Elrond continued. "Thousands of years ago, rings of power were made for the leaders of each race. Three were made for the rulers of elves, seven for the lords of dwarves, and nine for the kings of men. They thought the rings were gifts, but they were all deceived. Ten years later, in the secrecy of Orodruin, Sauron forged one ring of great power to rule all others. With the One Ring, he waged a great war upon Middle Earth and those who still sought to resist his dominion. It was in that war that Isildur took up his father's sword and cut the One Ring from the hand of Sauron."

As Lord Elrond spoke, several elves entered, placing wonderful looking food on the table. Lúthien rediscovered her former hunger at the sight and smell of the delicious food. There were various fruits, colorful drinks, fresh baked breads, and some meat. Lúthien lost a part of her appetite at seeing the meat. Its smell made her feel somewhat queasy. Turning from the spread in front of her, she returned her attention fully to Lord Elrond's story.

"Unfortunately, the hearts of men are easily corrupted," Lúthien found herself agreeing with that statement, "and Isildur did not cast the One Ring into the fires of Mount Doom where it would be destroyed. Instead, he kept the one ring." Lúthien could see the anger and perhaps even betrayal in Lord Elrond's eyes. "He intended to wield it, but the One Ring has a will of its own. Isildur was killed and the ring was lost. Because the One Ring still continue to exist, Sauron exists as well. It is part of him. Sauron's spirit was allowed to survive." Lúthien could hear the trouble, perhaps even some bitterness, in his voice.

"The nazgûl are the nine kings of men, corrupted and besmirched by their greed for power. They are no longer of the living, nor are they dead. They serve under Sauron's will and their own greed for power. They hunt for the ring, always seeking it out. Should they find it, they will return it to their lord, Sauron. Should that happen, this world will fall into darkness."

Lúthien felt a shiver at the words and tone of Lord Elrond. This ring… what if those nazgûl find it? What if what Lord Elrond said came to pass, and all the world fell into darkness? She suddenly felt very ill. She found herself wanting to do something, anything to keep what Lord Elrond said from happening. It was then something hit her, and she found herself feeling more ill than before. When she spoke, her voice was meek and slightly trembling.

"Lord Elrond… what does this ring look like?"

Lord Elrond looked surprised and somewhat worried at the fear in her voice. "Why do you ask?"

"Because…" She began, her voice still trembling. She looked to see everyone looking intently at her, intensifying her nervousness. What would they do if she told them? Swallowing hard, Lúthien continued. "Because in my dream, the one that would not let me wake, I saw… I saw a ring." She finished, finally relieved to have it said and done with. Her relief didn't last long, however, as she saw the look of alarm on Lord Elrond's face. Looking around, she saw the look of shock everyone's eyes held for her. She felt like disappearing.

"Describe it." Lord Elrond bellowed. Lúthien could see his hands fisting at his side.

"It was gold." She began, remembering the vision in her dream. "There was nothing distinct about it except the marking around the outside."

"Markings?" Lord Elrond pressed.

"Yes, like some sort of writing. They shone red with fire, much like the eye." Lúthien said, trying not to see the looks on the faces around her. A long silence passed and no one spoke. Looking up, she saw all eyes were now on Lord Elrond. His eyes were closed, though his body was tense. He appeared to be contemplating many things. Then he opened his eyes and connected with Lúthien's.

"I believe we have much more to discuss, Lady Lúthien Arwen. For now, however, let us enjoy our breakfast." He said, smiling warmly at her.

Lúthien smiled also, feeling a bit better that he had lightened the mood. "Please, feel free to call me Lúthien, seeing as how there is already an Arwen. I am still not accustomed to being addressed by my full name."

"Very well, Lady Lúthien." Lord Elrond spoke.

Lúthien had actually been hoping he'd drop the 'Lady' part as well, but shrugged mentally. Smiling across at Arwen, she noticed her and her brothers had already begun filling their plates. To her relief, it was quite informal. She couldn't help but giggle as Elladan and Elrohir eyed each other down. They had reached for the same fruit and neither was willing to give it up. At the sound of Lúthien's laughter, they had stopped their staring contest long enough to look at her. As their attention was diverted, Arwen reached over to snatch the much coveted fruit. Lúthien couldn't help but laugh out loud as Arwen licked the fruit, thereby claiming it as her own. The look on all their faces were priceless. Arwen looked like the cat that just ate the canary while Elladan and Elrohir looked like their puppy had just gotten run over. It was then that Lord Elrond cleared his throat.

"Need I remind you we have company this morning?" He said, eyeing his children in turn.

Lúthien held in her laughter as Elrohir, Elladan, and Arwen immediately improved their manners. She had a feeling she was going to have great fun as long as these three were around. Feeling much better, she realized that all the formality had begun to wear on her. She had been feeling quite uptight, constantly worry that anything she did might offend them somehow. Now that she had seen the antics of Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen, she realized she had been worrying just a little too much. Of course their manners were impeccable, but that was only the surface. Underneath, they were like anyone else, except for the fact that they'll probably live for another ten thousand years. Living that long, you _have_ to have a sense of humor.

"It's quite all right, Lord Elrond. It's nice to be able to laugh again. It's been days since I've had a good laugh."

Lord Elrond nodded to her in agreement. Taking this as their cue to continue their shenanigans, as was their daily habit during meals, they continued to feud over food. Lúthien soon joined them, merrily. Lord Elrond looked on in amusement as Lúthien and Elrohir reached for the same fruit. Lúthien pulled back her hand to let him have it until Arwen's laugher chimed from the other side of the table.

'Elrohir! What kind of a gentleman are you?"

"A hungry one." Elrohir responded with a laugh.

Everyone laughed at that comment. Even Lord Elrond let out a merry chuckle.

"Don't stand for that, Lúthien! Take that fruit from my discourteous brother!" Arwen laughed.

With a grin, Lúthien reached for the fruit. Seeing as how she was actually going to take it, Elrohir grabbed for it as well. Being that he was closer, he reached it first, but was thwarted as Lúthien snatched it from his hand.

"Hey!" Elrohir complained, still smiling.

Elladan roared with laugher as Lúthien licked the fruit, following Arwen's earlier example.

"That's more like it!" Arwen exclaimed between laughs.

Lord Elrond muttered something about children, shaking his head and laughing. The rest of breakfast continued on that way. The room was filled with merry mischief, laughter, and fake looks of disapproval from Lord Elrond. As the meal continued, Lúthien was glad to see the meat was going untouched. She really didn't feel like becoming sick to her stomach watching people eat it. She couldn't help but think about what they were actually eating when people ate meat. The rest of the food, however, was divine. The bread was freshly baked and very tasty. There were wonderful jams she had never tasted. The fruit was exceptionally sweet, and the juices were thirst quenching and delicious.

"Ah yes." Lord Elrond spoke, as if finally remembering something. "I have asked Lady Tinueth if she would tailor the clothes in your wardrobe. She is waiting for you in your quarters, now."

Lúthien smiled brightly. "Wonderful!" She had been in this same dress for 3 days. A new dress, and perhaps even a bath, would be just what the doctor ordered! Lúthien stood, still quite pleased with the news that she would have a change of clothes. "May I go?"

"By all means." Lord Elrond said, gesturing towards the door. "Arwen, could you go with her to be sure she does not become lost?"

Arwen nodded with a smile. She had been planning to go along anyway. Lúthien turn to leave before Lord Elrond's voice stopped her. "Although, I would like to meet with you again for lunch. There is still much we must discuss." Lúthien nodded as Arwen came to her side. Together they walked side by side out of the dining hall, leaving Elladan and Elrohir to stare at Lúthien's swaying rear end. One they were out of the room and out of earshot, Elrohir spoke up.

"_She likes me." _He said, grinning.

"_What makes you so sure?" _Elladan asked, eyeing his brother.

"_She sat next to me." _Elrohir stated cockily, crossing his arms and slouching back.

"_What?" _Elladan asked incredulously, trying to find some sense in his brother's statement. _"She only sat next to you because you pulled the chair out for her!"_

"_She didn't have to sit next to me if she didn't want to. She didn't sit next to **you** did she?"_ Elrohir asked, his grin broadening.

"_She didn't sit next to me because you were the one that pulled the chair out for her." _Elladan said logically.

"_Which is precisely why she likes me better." _Elrohir said, grinning winningly.

"_What?" _Elladan blurted. _"Your logic escapes me, dear brother."_

"_Which is why she likes me better." _Elrohir stated, his grin turning into a mischievous simper.

Lord Elrond took this as his cue to leave as well. If he knew his boys, they'd be at it for hours. They had always been like that. When they were young, the arguments were about just about anything and everything. Of course, now that they were older, the arguments were usually about lovely ladies. It was always the same. Elrohir would instigate with his clever lack of logic and Elladan would argue with his common sense. The argument would escalate until one challenged the other to some test of strength or skill. Then the winner would wave his triumph in the other's face for a few hours before they found something else to argue about. It was nothing but good-natured sibling rivalry, and Lord Elrond found he had become quite used to it over the years. He even found it amusing as long as he didn't have to make pardons on their behalf when innocent bystanders got caught up in their contests. Lord Elrond grimaced, remembering last time when he had to personally apologize to nearly half of Rivendel.

Cerulean Sage

"I thought that breakfast scene was particularly fun. Can't be uptight and formal all the time, right? Brothers and sisters are always a riot when it comes to claiming their territory. Have you ever had to lick your food to ensure it's not stole when your back is turned? I know I have! It's just one of the joys of being a sibling. If you're a sibling, you know how much fun it can be to snag someone else's snack. It's all fun and games. Brothers and sisters are great fun.

Thank you, thank you to everyone who reviewed I appreciate it a lot to know that people _are_ reading this.

To Nikki, I was planning to have a scene between Lúthien and Aragorn, though not a long one.

To Mia, all those mysterious qualities will make sense as everything reveals itself as the story goes on. No, she is not part elf. I never said Legolas is the one she has a romance with, and yes, Legolas is hot.

To Kyandoru, Lúthien is not perfect. If you haven't yet noticed, she has a slight social anxiety. She also has misconceptions about the elves from all the wonderful things she has heard about them her whole life. She sees them, at first, to be almost godly. She must find out, through getting to know them and spending time around them, that they are just like anyone else, with the exception of extended lives and such. The first step to realizing they're not some sort of unreachable gods is in the breakfast scene of this chapter. As you'll find out in the later chapters, she's also a bit of a coward in the face of danger. She has an immediate reaction to want to hide when things get scary until she realizes she has no choice, and must face the dangers, come what may. Courage borne of despair."


	11. Chapter 11

Lúthien and Arwen walked through the streets of Rivendel, heading towards Lúthien's sleeping quarters. They were a fair distance away from Lord Elrond's home before Arwen looked over to see the glare Lúthien was giving her.

"Why do you give me such an angry glower, Lúthien?" Arwen asked innocently.

"You know very well, Arwen. I thought you said you would stop playing matchmaker between myself and every available gentleman in Rivendel!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Arwen said, a playful twinkle in her eye.

Lúthien balked. "You know very well what I'm talking about!" Lúthien insisted. "I am talking about those looks you were giving me when I was introduced to your two brothers."

"I do not know what you are going on about. I was merely looking at you."

Lúthien sighed in frustration. She was getting nowhere in this argument, so she let it drop. They continued walking on for a while, eventually finding themselves in the section of Rivendel that housed the guests' quarters. Lúthien remembered the way from there and led Arwen to her personal quarters. Upon entering, they saw what looked like an explosion of clothing. All the dresses from Lúthien's wardrobe had been laid out over every free surface in the house. Needles, thread, and cloth took up the table top and two of the three chairs. In the midst of everything was a beautiful elf with dark brown hair and pale blue eyes. At the sight of Lúthien and Arwen's entry, she bowed her head in greeting.

"_Good morning, Arwen and Lady Lúthien Arwen."_ Lady Tinueth spoke. Upon looking at Lúthien, she smiled charmingly. _"Well I can plainly see, now, why these clothes need tailoring."_ She said with a laugh.

Lúthien started at her, grasping in vain for any understanding of what was just said. Luckily, Arwen came to her aid.

"_Tinueth, you must speak in Westron. Lúthien does not speak Elvish."_

"Does not speak Elvish? What elf does not speak Elvish?" Tinueth asked, seemingly baffled by Lúthien's inability to speak Elvish.

"One who is not an elf." Lúthien responded with a playful smile.

The implications of Lúthien's words dawned on Tinueth and she quickly made to cover her mistake. "My apologies. I had thought you to be elf kind."

Lúthien shrugged it off with a gesturing wave of her hand. "Trust me, you are not the first. It seems everyone thinks me to be elf kind these days." Lúthien said with a laugh.

"It would be a simple mistake, Lady Lúthien Arwen. Your features seem too fine to be human."

It was true. Lúthien's features were with out a single harsh element. The bone structure of her face was delicate and rounded, giving her face a fine quality. Her pale skin was flawless, unlike almost all humans who had some sort of imperfection; discoloration, freckles, acne, or scars. Any human to have such fair skin besides a young child was rare indeed. Lúthien smiled through a faint blush.

"Please, call me Lúthien."

Tinueth smiled charmingly. "Lúthien it is, then. Come, now. I must get your measurements if I'm ever to tailor your dresses properly." She said, grasping a ribbon-like strip in her hands.

Lúthien stepped inside, Arwen following close behind, closing the door behind her. Once they were both in, Tinueth ushered Lúthien into the middle of the room.

"The first thing we must do is remove your dress. You must be nude if I am to get proper measurements."

"Oh." Lúthien said, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. It was true they were all females, but the inkling that they might find something wrong with her body bothered her. What if elves' bodies were different than humans' and they found her body to be repulsive? With silent apprehension, she stripped off her mother's dress. To her relief, the other two women didn't seen bothered at all by her nudity. Tinueth began to take Lúthien's measurements, wrapping the strip around her waist, shoulders, chest, hips, and upper arms while Arwen looked through the dresses that were laid out on every surface. While Tinueth was measuring Lúthien's height, Arwen lifted a dress with a beaming smile.

"Tailor this one first, Tinueth. It will look absolutely wonderful on you, Lúthien." Arwen spoke, addressing both girls in turn.

"I agree completely Arwen. That dress's color will be perfect against Lúthien's hair and eyes."

Arwen and Tinueth had known each other for many years. Tinueth had always been the one to tailor Arwen's clothes. Over the years, they had gotten to know each other well, and even become friends. Lúthien looked to the dress Arwen was holding. It was a lilac purple and white dress. The inner part and sleeves were a creamy white while the outer layer was a light lilac color . The sleeves were long and flowing, sweeping outward at the ends. The neckline was broad, meant to rest on her arms so as to expose her shoulders. The whole dress shimmered as Arwen moved it around, as if thousands of tiny stars had been woven into the fabric. Lúthien gasped.

"It's so beautiful." She said, unable to remember seeing such a wonderful dress before in her life. She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed the beautiful dresses in her wardrobe before. Then again, she had been quite tired and preoccupied with finding nightwear rather than stunning dresses. Having finished taking Lúthien's measurements, Tinueth walked over and took the dress from Arwen's hands.

"I will tailor this right away. Why don't the two of you find a few more dresses for me to tailor after I am through with this one?" Tinueth said, taking the dress to the only clear spot on the table and setting to work on it.

With out any further encouragement, Arwen began to go through the dresses spread out on Lúthien's bed. Forgetting completely about her state of undress, Lúthien went over to the bed and followed suit. Only a minute or so passed before Arwen let out an elegant squeal of delight. Pulling a dress from under several others, she held it against Lúthien. It was a deep cobalt blue, seeming to fade to black where shade reached it. The sleeves faded into a brilliant blue tinted white as they extended down. A bluish white sash circled the waist of the dress, dimming back to blue as it extended down. The neckline was cut low, the sleeves meant to rest off the shoulders like the last dress.

"This will be absolutely striking on you. It makes your eyes look simply haunting and your skin seem to almost glow!"

Arwen was right. She would look almost like a goddess in that dress. It was almost as though the dress had been made for her and no one else. It played off the grey of her eyes, the dark color of her hair, and the pale color of her skin perfectly. The look on Tinueth's face showed she felt much the same way.

"Oh Lúthien, that dress was absolutely _made_ for you!" She said, momentarily pausing in her work to voice what Arwen thought and Lúthien felt.

In typical girl fashion, they went about picking out more and more dresses, raving about how lovely they were and how perfect they'd look on their owner. Tinueth continued to tailor with practiced skill, stopping occasionally to voice her agreement with the other girls on a particularly nice dress. Before long, they had picked out about 6 dresses. Tinueth had limited their selection to those 6 dresses for the moment, reminding them that she had other people's clothes to mend and could not spend the entire day tailoring only Lúthien's dresses. However, she had promised to tailor two or three dresses a day until all Lúthien's clothes fit.

With that, Lúthien and Arwen sat beside Tinueth as she worked away, talking about anything from their favorite places and people to listening to Arwen talk about how troublesome her brothers had been in their younger days. From there, the topic had changed to Lúthien's love life, or lack thereof. Lúthien shifted in discomfort and dismay as Tinueth joined Arwen in taking it upon themselves to play matchmakers. Oh how Arwen would pay…

"I have a very nice nephew." Tinueth began, her eyes glinting with what Lúthien could only identify as pure, unadulterated evil. "I'm sure he'd be very happy to meet a lovely lady such as yourself."

"Oh Tinueth, you know as well as I do that your nephew is quite the mischief maker. He would certainly drive Lúthien to the brink of her sanity."

With a whole-hearted laugh, Tinueth shook her head in agreement. "You have a valid point, my dear. He is quite an imp, however, I'm sure he would settle down in the presence of a sweet girl like Lúthien."

Lúthien turned averted her eyes to hide her embarrassment. It seemed compliments were constant among elves, and it was sometimes embarrassing to have herself assessed almost constantly. Whether good or bad, it sometimes made her feel quite self-conscious. Speaking of self conscious, Lúthien suddenly remembered her state of undress. Then she remembered her earlier wishes for a bath. She decided now would be the best time to ask, since she was already naked.

"Arwen?" Lúthien asked, calling for her attention. She waited until Arwen looked to her in acknowledgement before continuing with her question. "Would it be possible for me to have a bath?"

Arwen looked as though she had been struck with something blunt.

"Of course! How could I have forgotten to arrange for a bath?" She spoke in apparent frustration. "I'll go arrange for one right away."

With that, Arwen got up and walked to the door. Opening it barely and swiftly so as not to give anyone who might have been outside a glance at the nude girl within, she slipped out. Turning to face Tinueth, she received a warm smile.

"I am almost finished with this dress. Would you like to try it on, now, or would you rather wait until after your bath?"

Lúthien smiled. She could tell by the way Tinueth stressed the part about trying it on immediately that she was excited to see her in the dress. "I think I should try it on right away." She said with a charming grin. "Although I trust completely in your tailoring abilities, I'd hate for you to be in the middle of something important, only to be called back here because something is wrong with the dress."

"Agreed." Tinueth said with a smile, knowing Lúthien was just as excited as she to see her in that dress.

Handing over the dress, Tinueth stepped back to give Lúthien room to dress, but staying close enough to help should Lúthien need it. Deciding the best way to put the dress on was to slip it over her shoulders, Lúthien did just that. Slipping her arms through the sleeves, the dress seemed to slip over her body on its own accord, moving perfectly into place. Tinueth's tailoring job was nothing short of perfection. The dress hugged her body in all the right places, yet with out hugging too tightly. It wasn't too loose, yet it gave her a complete range of motion. It was almost like having a silky, flowing second skin.

"It fits perfectly!" Lúthien exclaimed excitedly.

"I'm glad you like it. It really does look lovely on you."

Lúthien did a little spin in place to accentuate her extreme pleasure in the dress. Never before had she been given the opportunity and honor of wearing such a beautiful gown. She still found it hard to believe it was hers to wear. Lúthien and Tinueth smile brightly at each other a moment before a knock came at the door. Looking to the door, Lúthien called out to whomever knocked.

"Come in." She said, expecting it to be Arwen returning from wherever she had run off to.

Seconds later, the door opened to reveal a number of elves standing outside of her door. The one standing in front of the others, obviously the one who knocked, was the first to speak.

"Our Lord has requested a bath be prepared for Lady Lúthien Arwen." She says, gesturing to the group behind her.

"Oh." Was the only response Lúthien could muster as the group of elves began to file into her quarters. A lovely porcelain tub was carried in by several male elves. Following the tub were more elf gentlemen carrying numerous buckets of water. Behind the elves with the buckets here a couple of elfin ladies. They carried soaps, towels, and things of that nature. Lúthien was given more than one curious glance as the tub was set in the center of the room and the buckets of water were emptied into it. Lúthien couldn't help but notice how handsome all of the elfin gentlemen and beautiful the elfin ladies were. It was about that moment that she realized she had yet to see an elf that wasn't handsome or beautiful. Even Lord Elrond had been handsome in his own right. She found herself wondering if there was such a thing as an ugly elf. Just as swiftly and silently as they entered, the elves began to leave, though not before most had a quick look or two at Lúthien. She was really feeling self conscious at all the strange looks she had been receiving ever since arriving at Rivendel, though she supposed it was nothing she shouldn't be used to. She had been receiving strange looks all her life due to her appearance. Why would anything have changed?

Lúthien watched as the last of the elf gentlemen left, closing the door behind them. Turning towards the tub, she saw that the elfin ladies were still standing beside the now full and steaming tub. The bathing supplies they had carried in were neatly arranged next to the tub. As if reading the question Lúthien was about to ask, one spoke up.

"We are here to help you bathe, my lady."

Normally, Lúthien would have insisted she could bathe on her own, but she wasn't about to argue her point. The sight of the steaming hot bath and scent of soaps were calling to her. Shrugging off whatever qualms she had, she began to strip out of her dress. Elves had seen her naked once already and didn't seem to mind. She was fairly certain they wouldn't care a second time. Once nude, she slipped into the wonderfully hot bath water with a contented sigh.

"It's been so long since I've had a hot bath." Lúthien said, lifting her arm out of the water and watching as it ran over her skin. "It feels wonderful." She spoke again, watching as the elf maidens set to work. They tore about in a near frenzy, soaping and scrubbing her at a dizzying speed. It was obvious to anyone with some intelligence that they had done this many, many times. Lúthien's sense of smell was almost overwhelmed by the various scents of lotions, soaps, and bath oils. They would ask her to sit or stand at odd intervals depending on what body part they were trying to reach. Towards the end of her bath, they both set to work washing her lengthy hair. Once her hair was filled with suds, a large pitcher of water was emptied over her head. Before Lúthien could even think to wipe the water from her eyes, she was wrapped head to toe in soft, absorbent cloth, one of the elf maidens gently blotting her face dry. The taller of the two asked her to step out of the tub as the other ran to fetch the lilac dress Tinueth held out. One slipped the dress on over Lúthien's head swiftly before the other returned to the large task of drying her hair.

Minutes later all three elves stood looking at a fully clothed Lúthien, whose hair was only slightly moist and already intricately plaited. Lúthien looked herself over in amazement. That had to have been the quickest, yet most fulfilling bath she'd ever had. She felt clean enough to reflect the light from the sun and smelled like a field of wildflowers. Not to mention she had no idea how they had managed to dry her hair to the extent they had within such a small amount of time. Not knowing just what to say, Lúthien simply beamed at the elves before her. It was that moment that Arwen chose to return from her wild goose chase. The smile on her face showed she was positively exuberant about something, despite just having run a fool's errand. Lúthien couldn't help but feel herself smile as well as she met Arwen's joyful grin.

"And just what has you smiling from ear to ear, my dear friend?" Tinueth asked, a slight hint of teasing in her questioning voice. "The last time I saw a smile upon your face of that caliber was when you were last with your beloved Aragorn."

Arwen's only response was a slight color that stained her cheeks as her smile broadened further. Tinueth smiled brightly as well as understanding passed through her.

"He is here? In Rivendel?" Tinueth asked, excitement for her friend tinting her voice.

Arwen nodded. "When I went to see my father about having a bath drawn for Lúthien, he told me he had already arranged to have it taken care of. My father then told me Aragorn arrived here shortly after we left breakfast, and that he is most likely still at Frodo's bedside. I came back as quickly as I could to share the wonderful news and invite Lúthien along with me so I might introduce them properly." Arwen finished, looking to Lúthien.

"That's wonderful news!" Lúthien said, walking swiftly to Arwen's side. "I'd love to meet the man so deserving of your love!" She said, sharing a merry smile with Arwen. "Let us go immediately!" She said, taking Arwen's arm and leading her to the door.

It didn't take any further encouragement on Arwen's part as she began a swift trot out the door, Lúthien fast on her heals.

Cerulean Sage

"I realize this chapter has been long in coming, and I must apologize. I lost my muse, my inspiration, and my drive to write due to a writer's block. Then I became so busy with other matters that completing this seemed ridiculously impossible. Thankfully, however, I defeated the evil writer's block monster and have found myself with sufficient time to complete this chapter, and hopefully many more. I realize that as the chapters have gone on, they seem to become a bit more… poorly written. That is due to the writer's block monster I've been battling. However, I have centered myself and set myself to writing more and better chapters to follow. Thank you to everyone who has read and continued to check up on this story for updates. I truly do appreciate you all.

Excitement reigns in the next chapter as Lúthien meets Aragorn, Elladan and Elrohir meet their match, and Lúthien meets her first hobbits aside from the comatose Frodo."


	12. Chapter 12

Arwen and Lúthien walked briskly through the streets of Rivendel, both eager to see Aragorn. Lúthien didn't know him, though she could plainly see by the happiness on Arwen's face that he must indeed be a good man. They trot passed many elves and elfin buildings in their haste, the robes of their gowns whipping behind them as both faces beamed with excitement and joy. It seemed the white marquee where Frodo rested and healed was within sight in no time. They half raced side by side up the stairs until they both came to stand in the doorway. Looking up from several chairs set beside Frodo's bed was a handsome, rugged man with dark, unkempt hair and sky blue eyes, Lord Elrond in all his grace, and several tiny men. Lúthien was quite surprised and did a double take just to be sure. Indeed, they were truly tiny men. She had never seen the like in all her life. My weren't they adorable with their small stature, curly hair, child-like faces, and… hairy feet? Lúthien hesitated as she studied the odd group before her, though Arwen had no such hesitations once she locked gazes with the dark haired fellow.

"Arwen, I see you've brought company." Lord Elrond spoke good naturedly as he rose from his chair to greet the ladies.

Aragorn and the hobbits followed Lord Elrond's courteous lead, except for one hobbit who remained unwavering by Frodo's bedside. Aragorn came to stop beside Arwen, placing a tender kiss upon her hand before looking to Lúthien. The hobbits came to stand just behind Aragorn as Arwen spoke, smiling contentedly at Aragorn's side.

"Yes, father. I've brought Lúthien to meet Aragorn." She said, gesturing with a side-step. "Aragorn, this is Lúthien Arwen, daughter of Aden and Edel. Lúthien, this is Aragorn, son of Arathorn and Gilraen." She proclaimed as Aragorn stepped forward to take Lúthien's hand.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, milady." He said, taking her hand just as he had with Arwen's and kissing it lightly.

Lúthien could tell already she'd get along well with Aragorn. Not only was he very much the gentleman, but he also didn't seem the slightest bit affected by her appearance. He looked at her the way a person would look at any other normal person, and she found that wonderfully refreshing. Lúthien smiled brightly.

"I can see, now, why Arwen is so fond of you." She spoke, accepting her hand back as Aragorn released it. "Although, I must ask who your companions are. I'm afraid I've never seen anyone like them before."

It was then that Merry and Pippin stepped in front of Aragorn, their youthful exuberance shining through their eyes. Pippin, of course, spoke first.

"Hello. My name is Peregrin Took, but you can call me Pippin, or just Pip if you like." He said, taking her hand much as Aragorn had and kissing it. Lúthien had to contain the mirthful smile that sprang to her lips as she found Pippin didn't have very far to lift her hand. She was tiny, certainly, but he was even smaller! Never before had she seen someone so little, or so adorable, that wasn't a child. Pushing Pippin out of the way, Merry came to clasp her hand next.

"Hello, Lady. My name is Meriadoc Brandybuck." He said, kissing her hand with a bit more poise than Pippin. "My friends call me Merry."

Lúthien smiled and allowed herself a mirthful laugh. "Then I will have to call you Merry, now won't I?"

"Most certainly!" Merry said with a smile, releasing her hand.

Lord Elrond was the next to step forward and take Lúthien's hand, placing a kiss much as the others had done. "It's good to see you again, Lady Lúthien Arwen. I'm glad to see you found a dress to your liking."

Lúthien bowed her head respectfully to Lord Elrond. "My lord, they were all quite to my liking. I can't thank you enough for your kindness."

While Lord Elrond and Lúthien exchanged pleasantries, Arwen had diverted her attention from Aragorn to Frodo. _"How does he fare?"_

"_He is coping well. His health is much improved since last I saw him."_ Aragorn began. _"He should be awake and alert within a few days' time. Your father performs miracles, Arwen."_

At his mention, Lord Elrond turned his attention to Aragorn and Arwen, causing Lúthien to turn her attention as well. Within moments, all eyes were on Arwen. Arwen found herself unsure whether to continue her conversation with Aragorn or to address everyone. She debated her dilemma for only a moment before her father solved the slight problem for her.

"Yes, Frodo's recovery is quite amazing. However, I cannot take all the credit. Frodo has proven to be amazingly resilient. I also had some unexpected, though greatly appreciated assistance." He said, looking to Lúthien.

Lúthien cast her eyes down in modesty as many gazes turned her way. "It was no trouble, my lord. Frodo has a strong buoyancy, so it's no surprise he's recuperating so well." She spoke, hoping they'd turn their attention back to Frodo, thereby taking their scrutinizing gazes from her.

Instead, Lord Elrond arched a single elegant brow. Lúthien was nervous he'd say something more for a moment, but he didn't. Instead, he allowed the topic to drop as everyone turned their attention back to the source of the conversation. Lúthien was almost certain he could sense her discomfort at the attention by the way he acted. The room was filled with a respectful silence for the wounded Frodo. Faint noises from the active elves could be heard carried on the wind. It was a certain faint noise, however, that caused the keen-eared Lord Elrond, Arwen, and Aragorn to turn to the doorway. There in the doorway stood the figure of a man, but not just any man. Shouts of "Gandalf!" went up as the hobbits scurried to his side. Lord Elrond was quick to greet him.

"Gandalf, my friend. It is good to see you once more."

Lúthien eyed the newcomer with acute interest. So this is the Gandalf she needs to see? Hopefully this elderly looking man could help her find some meaning to her strange dreams and sudden, intense fear whenever danger neared.

"As it is good to see you." Gandalf said nodding a respectful, however curt, greetings in return. "Tell me, what has befallen Frodo?" He asked, taking a place by Frodo's side. It was obvious to anyone he cared deeply for the tiny young man, and his poor state affected him greatly.

"He was stabbed by a Morgul blade." Aragorn began to explain. "Thankfully, Lord Elrond was able to return him to good health. He almost didn't survive."

Gandalf looked at Frodo with such grief and tenderness that it was moving for all to see. It was just then that a handsome elf walked in and addressed Lord Elrond. He was clad in well made and well kept elfin armor. He was fairly handsome with dark brown hair and light blue eyes. He was careful to hush his voice in respect for those that might be resting as he spoke.

"My Lord, your sons would appear to be engaging in another of their contests."

A flash of concern flit across Lord Elrond's face before it was smothered by a look of irritation. "Thank you, Berenon. You may return to your post." He said, dismissing the soldier.

"Yes, My Lord." Berenon said, exiting swiftly.

Lord Elrond turned to address everyone. "You'll have to excuse me. It would seem my sons have seen fit to endanger innocent lives once more."

Arwen couldn't help but laugh to herself. She wondered what her miscreant brothers were up to this time. Watching as her father left swiftly, she smirked and turned to Lúthien. "Come along with me. This promises to be entertaining." She said, taking Lúthien's hand and leading her out. They were followed by Aragorn, who also knew this developing situation promised to be amusing, and the hobbits who were simply curious. They found it increasingly difficult to follow Lord Elrond, however as he hurried through the streets. They were all at a near run to reach Elladan and Elrohir before anything happened. After a short while, they found themselves at the stables where horses were wandering freely out of their stables.

"What is going on here?" Lord Elrond demanded, sounding quite exasperated as he searched through the sea of horses for the culprits of this mess.

At that moment, a handsome face popped out from behind one of the horses.

"Well hello, father." Elrohir said, sounding quite unconvincingly innocent.

"What in the name of Elbereth are you doing?" Lord Elrond boomed.

"Looking for a horse." Came Elrohir's nonchalant reply. "Elladan challenged me to a race. I fully anticipate a victory."

"Where is your brother?" Lord Elrond asked, knowing he'd make more headway with Elladan.

Elrohir was about to answer his father when he finally looked over to acknowledge those that stood beside his him. Seeing Lúthien, he swiftly made his way over. Taking her hand up, he placed a lingering kiss against the soft skin on the back of her hand. "I am quite honored to be granted with your company once more, Lady Lúthien. Tell me, have you come to watch me trounce my brother in our horse race?"

Lúthien wasn't really sure how to respond to Elrohir's cheekiness. However, she was saved from formulating an answer as Elladan rushed out of the horse stalls to grab at the lead of the closest horse, and began to hastily lead it back into the stables. Seeing as how Lord Elrond got no answer from Elrohir, and Elladan was right within sight, he decided to ask his more mindful son what this was all about.

"Elladan." Lord Elrond bellowed, causing Elladan to flinch slightly and turn to his father with a notably apprehensive smile.

"Yes, father?" He asked. It was obvious he could tell his father was highly irritated.

"What is the meaning of all this?" Lord Elrond demanded, gesturing with a sweep of his hand to the freely roaming horses walking wherever they pleased.

"Well, father, I challenged Elrohir to a horse race. However, he saw fit to choose his horse by setting them all free." Elladan said, giving Elrohir a dirty glare.

Lord Elrond diverted his glare from Elladan back to Elrohir, receiving a sheepish but charming smile in response from his more troublesome son.

"I wanted to be sure I picked the best horse for the job by seeing them in motion. It's hard to tell how fast a horse will run if it simply stands still in a stall."

Lúthien could almost see the restraint Lord Elrond used to not roll his eyes. Instead he sighed in exasperation as he spoke to both sons.

"Just see to it that all these horses are returned to their respective stalls. Also, should you race, race where no one will be hurt. I don't want to hear of any mishaps due to your high jinks."

"Yes, father." Elladan responded, before noting the others that stood by his side. "By the light of day! It's wonderful to see you again, my friend!" He exclaimed with a comely smile, forgetting the horse and walking briskly to Aragorn. "This is truly a great surprise. How long has it been?"

"Too long." Aragorn replied, grasping arms with Elladan in greeting.

"Tell me, What brings you to Rivendel?" Elladan asked eagerly.

Not wanting to divulge any of the seriousness of his presence in Rivendel, he responded to Elladan with familiar humor. "My love for you, dear friend."

Placing a hand to his chest in false shock, Elladan spoke again. "But how soon you disregard your love for my sister, even as she stands beside you. Must I be forced to restore her honor by conquering you, as well as my brother, in a challenge of strength and skill?"

Aragorn allowed himself a mirthful smirk, his face accepting Elledan's challenge before his lips had been given the chance. "Do you think it wise to invite me so willingly into yours and Elrohir's challenge. After all, you do wish to win, do you not?"

Elrohir spoke up next. "Most certainly. He merely asks for your company in defeat."

Gilleth, nudging Lúthien from behind, began to whicker to her as she bobbed her head in gesture. It was Lúthien's amused laughter that defused the increasing triangle of competitive tension that was Aragorn, Elladan, and Elrohir. Elrohir, with his charmingly impish smirk was the one to address her.

"My lady, as much as I do enjoy the music of your laughter, might I inquire as to why?"

"Oh. I do not mean to laugh at you, if that is your impression. It's simply that my companion," she continued, gesturing to Gilleth, "seems to think the lot of you speak of victory and defeat far too much. I think, perhaps she would like to see words put to action."

Elladan and Elrohir made eye contact, and the devilish grins that spread over both their visages was almost frightening. "My dear brother, it would seem to me that we have yet another eager challenger."

Lúthien baulked and raised her hands as if to fend off their plotting against her. "That's not what-" However, to no avail.

"Yes, it would seem so." Elladan replied with a chuckle.

"Well I cannot, in good conscience, allow Lúthien to race the three of you. After all, who will she have to talk to while waiting for you at the finish?" Arwen spoke up, the light of a challenge lifting her features.

"Yet another competitor?" Aragorn said, smiling as he made eye contact with Arwen.

"It would seem so." She spoke, holding his gaze.

"Then it is settled." Elrohir spoke up, making a gesture of declaration. "It is no longer a challenge, but a true race. Our course will be from here to the falls and back. To prove you've reached the falls, you must ride through its waters. Whoever arrives back dry will be disqualified. Now, all we need is a witness to confirm the winner." He spoke aloud, beginning to scan the crowd for someone to be the 'referee'.

"We'll do it!" Pippin piped up, waving his arm at Elrohir for his attention. "Merry and I can be your witnesses." She said cheerfully.

"Alright, then." Elrohir spoke, clasping his hands in a triumphant gesture. "We have our witnesses. Now, everyone must choose their horse and the race will begin." He proclaimed, looking around and gesturing to the wandering horses with a sweeping hand.

There was a distinct shuffle of commotion as all the racers hurried to select their horses. She watched as everyone seemed to vanish within the forest of equines. Lúthien felt a warm nudge from behind, and turned to acknowledge Gilleth.

"Of course I will choose you, Gilleth. I would have no one else." She spoke amiably, petting her faithful mare lightly on her neck. No sooner had she lain her head against Gilleth's in a gesture of comfort and friendship did the sea of horses break to make way for a large, impressively built grey stallion. His fur was dark, but multifaceted with fading shades of pale grey and building tones of black. As he moved, so did the highlights and lowlights in his pelt. Lúthien realized that because he was so healthy, the luster of his coat actually gave him a multicolored appearance depending on the lighting. Lúthien recognized the stallion as Dagorgon, who was immediately followed by a complaining Elrohir trying in vane to chase him down. Dagorgon had settled himself into a nice trot as he purposely kept himself just out of the elf's reach. Lúthien could do nothing but laugh at the sight he made. Not to mention she could tell Dagorgon was having a grand old time teasing Elrohir. She was having a grand old time just watching. The scene they made was absolute hilarity. Arwen thought so, too, as she made her way over to stand beside Lúthien, her racing horse by her side. Lúthien awed at the beautiful Red Dun mare. She was solid with health and her rust colored fur held a lustrous sheen of spun copper. Her mane and tail were also of the same rust colored hair and copper toned highlights. She was indeed a beautiful creature.

"Oh, Arwen." Lúthien gushed, stepping forward to gently stroke the mare's neck. "She's beautiful. What's her name?" She asked.

Arwen also prided the mare as she gently scratched between her perky ears. "Her name is Glawenor." She spoke, taking note of the questioning look on Lúthien's face. "It means 'radiance of the morning' in elvish."

Lúthien's face took on a look of understanding as she shook her head fervently. "It suits her well."

"You will never catch him that way, dear brother. You may as well pick out another horse." Elladan's amused voice rang out, soothing and rich with gentle bass. He casually approached the girls with his chosen horse by his side, all the while watching his brother chase Dagorgon fruitlessly. Arwen and Lúthien both regarded him as he stood amiably beside his sister. "Amazing we should be related to him." He joked with her.

Arwen chuckled lightly in response. "You worst of all, seeing as he is your twin."

"Again, you see fit to remind me." He joked with mock shame, casting his head down with a shake of resignation.

Lúthien stayed mostly silent during their impromptu mockery of Elrohir. She was content to be amused by him and Dagorgon as the steed saw fit to choose only the best roots and stones to make Elrohir stumble. A warm smile drew pleasantly on her features, mirroring the warmness that was growing in her heart at watching him. Though it was not the feeling that most would think of, it was a growing sense of ease in his company. He was unafraid to disgrace himself in front of her or anyone else, unrepentantly so. Though he could be a gentleman with all the fluidity and grace in the world, this was a side of him, or any elf for that matter, that she hadn't thought could be. It truly put her at ease, knowing that at the end of the day, he was just as mortal as she. Of course, he would live a great many hundreds of years longer, that was fact. However, he was just as subject to error, to mistake, and to blunder. The same roots that caused him to stumble were the same she, herself, would trip upon. It helped break the godly mold she had somehow built around them. The elves weren't gods. They weren't mortals either, but she was content with that. They still garnered and deserved her unerring respect. They were a great people. They just weren't an infallible people. A sudden, gentle hand on her shoulder brought her out of her reverie.

"Lúthien Arwen, are you all right?" Asked a smooth, concerned voice. Lúthien shook off her daze to find herself focusing into handsome grey eyes.

"Oh, yes. Yes." Lúthien said, nodding vigorously as she tactfully moved from under Elladan's hand by guiding Gilleth to her other side, breaking the contact as she turned to perform the action.

"I am very glad, then. You seemed to be very out of yourself for a long moment. You failed to respond to your name when I called you." He spoke, a concerned look still shadowing his eyes.

"It would seem to me that she had been smitten by our brother." Arwen joked, gesturing meaningfully at Lúthien as she had done when concerning just about every available gentleman. Lúthien suddenly felt very flustered and couldn't hope to contain the blush that broke free.

"I am not smitten, Arwen Undómiel, and you stop that right now." She scolded, her blush spreading and deepening in color.

"Stop what?" Arwen asked in playful innocence. The smile on her face seemed sweet enough, but Lúthien would swear it as the most heinous sneer in all of Middle Earth at that moment.

"Stop insinuating that I should be enthralled with every other man I turn eyes at." Lúthien grumped, crossing her arms and giving her newfound friend an abashed glare.

Arwen laughed warmly before giving in to Lúthien's mortification. "I apologize, dear Lúthien. I did not mean to cause you any upset."

Lúthien sighed and set herself into an easy smile. "I know you had not meant any harm. I suppose I am just very sensitive to this subject. It is especially awkward when you say I have feelings for your own brother."

"Well, you could have easily avoided the whole uneasy business and told me yourself." Elrohir spoke, walking up with Dagorgon finally in hand. He looked a bit worn and worse for wear, but otherwise as graceful and unerring as the first time she'd met him. Leaning languidly on Dagorgon's croup, he cast a disarmingly charming grin at her. "You don't need Arwen to tell me of your feelings for me."

The mad blush that crept from the ridge of Lúthien's hairline to the nape of her neck was absolutely flaming under the eyes that fixed on her. She felt as if the whole crowd awaiting the race was staring into her, and it made her blood heat with pure humiliation. Elrohir had obviously came into their conversation at the very worst possible time. She had 't even seen him coming. It was just far too much indignity to bear, and she felt she might flee. Stoning herself against the urge, she noted that the quickest way to recover from loss of face would be retaliation. Straightening herself, she brushed invisible dust from her forearms and eyed Elrohir with a level gaze. Without diverting her focus, she spoke in a rather calming tone. "If ever I was to give you my love…" She said, gesturing to Dagorgon in a way he seemed to understand. Curling his lip back in the equine equivalent of an impish grin, Dagorgon darted forward quickly, allowing gravity to take hold of Elrohir's leaning form. Elrohir made an expression of surprise and flailed about for a long moment, stumbling to catch himself before finally succumbing to the might of gravity. Lúthien looked down at him with great humor, an amused simper tugging at her lips. "…it would be tough love." She said, regarding him coolly.

The entire company suddenly let loose with an uproar of laughter. Even Elrohir, who was the subject of their laughter, was amused. Leaning up to brace himself on his elbows, he gave Lúthien a positively unrepentant grin. "I would consider myself blessed that you would bestow me with any form of your affection." He teased lightheartedly.

Lúthien blushed once more, though it was also lighthearted, as she offered her hand to the fallen Elrohir. Though he took it, he pulled himself to his feet on his own, simply holding her hand as he stood. Aragorn stood beside Elladan with his chosen horse, thoroughly amused by Elrohir's antics. However, he was equally amused at Elladan's exasperation with Elrohir's antics. Anyone who didn't know him would never notice, but when Elladan was annoyed the muscles of his jaw would pulse in rhythm with each blink of his eyes.

Behind Aragorn, his sleek and unassuming seal brown stallion took a sudden keen interest in Elladan's Cremello mare. The seal brown stallion was composed of deep, almost black browns the color of fertile soil mixed with milk chocolate splotches. Elladan's mare was a brilliant creamy golden color with a lustrous white mane and tail. Her white legs faded into the shimmering gold, and her head sported a white diamond in the center. It would be no wonder that any stallion would find interest in her. Of course, she only had eyes for Dagorgon, the stable's own Stallion Adonis. Her body language expressed her irritation, however, as Dagorgon's focus was on Gilleth. He trotted and pranced about, vying for her attention by showing off his impressive form. Unfortunately for him, Gilleth was hardly impressed, and pointedly ignored his parading.

"Are we all prepared to race?" Elladan's firm voice rang out. Though his question was direction to everyone, his focus remained on his brother and the forward hold he had on Lúthien's hand. Each rider affirmed that they were, indeed, ready. Finally releasing Lúthien's hand in order to catch Dagorgon once more, Elrohir was the last to acknowledge that he was ready. Stroking Gilleth in a comforting manner, she softly whispered to her faithful companion.

"Are you ready to win?" She asked in the friendly spirit of competition. Gilleth struck her foot against the packed earth of the pathway and shook her powerful head with a snort as Elladan and Elrohir spoke up in unison. The small idiosyncrasy served to remind anyone who might have temporarily forgotten that they were still twins, despite their very different personalities.

"The race will begin here. Each rider will follow this path out of the main streets of Rivendell. Once out, each rider must circle the perimeter of the city until they reach the waterfall. Every participant must ride through the waterfall, or they are otherwise disqualified. The first to return to this spot wins." They announced together.

"Please mount your horse and back up into the stable fence. Once everyone is in place, Merry and Pippin may signal the start." Elladan spoke clearly.

All the riders following directions, they saddled up as the bystanders shuffled swiftly off to the sidelines. Merry and Pippin scuttled together before the riders, standing in the empty center where a gap in riders made a safe space. As each rider sized the other up, so did the horses. Lothvalthen, the Cremello mare, sized up Gilleth. Gilleth sized up Dagorgon, and Dagorgon sized up Nadu. Nadu was Aragorn's chosen stallion, and Dagorgon knew he would be hard pressed to defeat the swift and sleek competitor.

Cerulean Sage

"I must apologize, first and foremost, for the incredibly long wait for this new chapter. A lot of elements in my life made it impossible for me to work on it. However, as of the past month or so I really had no other excuse except that I had lost my place in the story. With my spare time, I had to reread everything in order to find where I had gotten lost in order to recreate the flow of the story. I've been adding a little at a time, and just finished this particularly long new chapter. Again, I am terribly sorry to all of you faithful readers that have waited so long, and assure you the wait was just unavoidable on my part. Due to the already long wait, I will not hesitate to post this chapter until next week. It will be posted now, and next week will be without updates on any stories. The following week will continue as normal. I thank you all for your diligent patience.

Also, I've reposted the entire story. I've gone through and made slight corrections throughout the story. Just minor spelling changes and such, so there's no real need to reread anything. One more thing I want to correct is a comment a made before. I had originally planned to have Legolas be the first Fellowship member she meets, but then I realized that simply wasn't practical. After all, Aragorn and Gandalf arrive long before he does. It simply wasn't practical to the flow of the story's timeline. So you get a picture of Lúthien and Legolas for no reason. Oh well. I don't supposed I would get any flames for it.

I think that's all for now. And as always, review, review, review."


	13. Chapter 13

Standing together before the looming mass of mankind, elfkind, and beasts of burdon Merry and Pippin were dwarfed even more than usual. Their tiny forms were small enough to fit easily beneath the immense expanse of Dagorgon's underbelly. As they tried to decide how best to begin the race, they began to bicker.

"We don't need a banner, Pip. All we have to do is tell them when to go."

"Yes, but it would be better if we used a banner."

"No, Pippin. By the time we made a banner, no one will want to race anymore."

"Well can I at least make one to signal the end of the race?" Pippin asked, his little hopes rising and falling on the prospect of a banner.

"I don't care, Pip. Right now, let's just concentrate on starting the race." Merry sighed in exasperation.

"Ready? Set? Go!" Pippin shouted to the riders before turning back to Merry. "Can I make the banner, now, Merry?"

The riders were so amused by their idle bickering that it took a few seconds to register when Pippin called out for the race to begin. They turned from one to the other in confusion before Elrohir took the initiative and took off in a thunder of hooves. Not to be left in the dust, the others were hot on his trail.

"Pippin!" Merry complained. "We were supposed to do it together."

"Oh. Well then you should have told them to go. I only want to make the banner." Pippin chirped, completely oblivious to Merry's frustration.

Merry could only grumble his irritation as he took a perch on the stable fence to await the return of the riders. Pippin happily recruited the help of several elf bystanders to create his banner. They were easily overcome by his Hobbit charms.

The thunder of hooves was immense as the riders flew through the street. Those unwitting to the race were quick to leap from the path as they stormed through. They had begun in a cluster, but some were forced to fall back in order to accommodate the narrowing path. Elrohir rode several paces in front of the rest. Behind in close succession was Aragorn astride Nadu, Elladan upon Lothvalthen, Arwen on Glawenor, and finally Lúthien riding Gilleth. She could tell Gilleth was frustrated to be in last, riding so hard on the tails of the other horses that she was in danger of crossing hooves with Glawenor.

"Easy, my friend." Lúthien soothed. "Save your strength for open ground."

Gilleth conceded, easing her fruitless strain. She settled into a steady canter behind the others, waiting for her chance to open up and beat the earth with merciless hooves. Before long, the end of the row was in sight, and all the horses picked up speed in anticipation. In that instant, Elrohir cried out in horror.

"Mithrandir, gangway!" He shouted, jerking Dagorgon sharply to the side as Lúthien watched him just barely avoid running over a hunched old man.

The fragile old man shouted in alarm as he pressed himself against the wall of the last elfin building on the row. He hadn't expected to turn the corner directly into the path of a stampede. He seemed only slightly put off by the unexpected surprise as a gentle smile tugged his lips. Lúthien watched as each of the riders slowed, the old man strongly commanding their attention. The horses obeyed their riders, but barely. They were still intent to keep running. For a moment, Lúthien thought the race would stop for this old man. The looks he received from the others made it clear they knew and loved him well. She could see the obvious deliberation on the others' faces as they debated whether to stop and greet the old man, or keep racing. Elrohir seemed to make the final decision, since he was in the lead, as he raced on. The others followed suit and the race picked up again, twice as fast as before now that they'd reached open ground. Stubborn and determined by nature, Gilleth set a brutal pace for herself. She beat the earth, Lúthien clutching tightly to her back with her beautiful blue dress whipping behind her. Doing her best to keep the light material from rising up shamefully, she resorted to tucking the material beneath her thighs. Even so, the hem was slowly creeping passed her knees. As Gilleth pulled even with Glawenor, she noted Arwen was having much the same problem. She halfheartedly cursed the men, their pants, and their impromptu challenge.

"You must ride faster, my friend. You fall too far behind your beloved Aragorn." Lúthien called over in amusement, playfully encouraging Arwen to speed up.

"Nay. It is he who rides too far ahead of me." Arwen joked back.

They laughed together a moment, and the sight was undeniably enchanting. It was a scene from a painting; two unspeakably beautiful women riding bareback upon dazzling mares, their lustrous hair and stately dresses flowing behind them, creamy legs slightly exposed by their swift speeds, and a look of utter delight upon both faces. To any man, Arwen's beauty was irresistible and exotic. Chiseled feminine features shaped her face; high arching cheekbones and a graceful forehead surrounded sparkling, almond shaped crystalline blue eyes shadowed by lush black lashes. Framing those enticing eyes were delicate, crested brows that gave her lovely eyes an almost feline quality. Set just below her small, slender nose were lush, rosy lips. Contrasting beautifully with the enticing rouge of her lips, the brilliant blue of her eyes, and the deep rich color of her dark hair was her creamy porcelain skin. It was flawless and almost seemed to glow with ethereal health in even poor lighting.

Lúthien's beauty was a different kind, but no less captivating. Much like Arwen, she had rich dark hair and creamy porcelain skin. Unlike Arwen's exotic elfin features, however, Lúthien's facial structure was more delicate. Her chin, cheekbones, and forehead all had a soft, rounded shape. She had a small button nose that could only be described as cute. Set just above were large, grey doe eyes framed by a thick forest of lashes and high rounded brows. Her plump lips were soft pink and lightly upturned at the corners, giving her mouth a slight pout. Her beauty was an unnatural sort, too fine to be human. However, her features were also too unlike those of the elves as well.

That was the reason so many had been captivated by her beauty. There was no question why a human would desire her greatly. She was a rose among dandelions. As for the elves, it was her singular and unique beauty. All elves were like roses, glorious in their beauty. Arwen was particularly radiant among them, like the reddest of red rosebuds in full bloom and kissed with shimmering dew, paling all others in comparison. Elf beauty was tried and true. From the dank forests of Mirkwood to the enchanted waters of Rivindell, their entire like shared great similarities in their elfin features. Small differences allowed for individuality, but there was no question that an elf was an elf at just a glance. Lúthien's beauty was something entirely different, like flawed perfection. There were humans with button noses, round faces, and every mutation of eye color imaginable, but their features had always been ungainly in proportion and appearance. Lúthien had somehow been made with a variation of those features into something entirely new and beautiful.

Perhaps a shift in the ph balance of the soil or a bungling bumblebee had caused the mutation. Perhaps a little of both. Whatever the case, she was still a rose created from dandelions, and among other roses, she was a rose of another color. Among the elves, she was a single white rose in a bed of red roses. She was not kissed with shimmering dew like the most beautiful buds in bloom, but she was the single fleck of white amidst red that could catch and hold one's gaze simply for the fact that it was singular. She was also unlike the other roses in that her petals would only blossom for a single season while all others lived on, but that could only serve to make her bloom more precious. A strange mutation like hers was not likely to occur more than once in an era.

As Gilleth raced on, it became evident to Lúthien that she had no intent to linger near the rear of the race any longer. She began to pull away from Arwen and Glawenor steadily, leaving Lúthien to call back to her friend before she was too far to away. "I will see you at the finish, my friend."

Arwen replied in turn. "Indeed. I trust you to cow my dear brother's ego. It already grows so large I fear he may one day topple headlong."

Lúthien laughed in good nature as Arwen poked gentle fun at her brother, but understood well that Arwen was encouraging her to take on Elrohir at the head. Arwen was wishing her to win the race, and she knew Gilleth would do her best to see it done. The proof of Gilleth's determination was in the putting as she doggedly made her way closer to Elladan upon Lothvalthen, who at the moment was also riding ever closer to Aragorn atop Nadu as he drew even nearer to Elrohir on Dagorgon. As Gilleth's muzzle drew even with Lothvalthen's croup, the golden shimmering mare seemed to realize it and cut Gilleth off accordingly. Cross, but not cowed, Gilleth tried again on the other side. Again, the stunning mare cut her short. Gilleth was growing irritated with the female equine as she realized Lothvalthen was intent to keep her back. Her behavior seemed too backhanded in a fair race, and Gilleth decided to reward the mare with similar unfairness. As Gilleth made to pass once again, and Lothvalthen began to cut her off as before, Gilleth let loose a furious whinny before snapping her head toward the other female in order to nip her rump. Startled, Lothvalthen skittered sharply to the side, her pace becoming erratic in alarm, causing her to fall back just behind Arwen and Glawenor. It was a warning from Gilleth to Lothvalthen, not for the race but in general. She didn't know or care why this other mare was playing dirty, but she was not about to take any flak.

Unseen by Gilleth, Lothvalthen was spurned. Had these two horses been cats instead, the claws would have been out and fur would already have been flying. The tension between then was thick, at least from Lothvalthen's end. She did not like the idea of a new mare just strolling into the stables and getting so much attention from Dagorgon. She had always been his favorite mare, and intended to keep it that way. If Gilleth continued to attract Dagorgon's attention the way she had today, Lothvalthen would see to it that they had it out, claws or not.

As the horses continued round in a broad circle around Rivindell, Lúthien could plainly see how quickly they were coming upon the waterfall. They had made their way from the last in line to the middle and the race was almost half over already. The waterfall was now only a straightaway ahead and coming up fast, and Lúthien's gut churned in anticipation. She was both exhilarated by the thought of riding through its waters and dreading the probable cold. Of course, she couldn't and wouldn't back down, now. Honestly, she was having too much fun. She never pictured herself racing wildly on bareback with elves and a man around an elfin city. Now that she was doing it, she would not let a moment pass or a single memory of it all fade. She had been making nothing but precious memories since she'd come here. She would never forget Arwen's sweet company, Aragorn's soothing presence, Elrohir's Cheshire grin, or Elladan's kind demeanor. She would never forget the hobbits' amusing antics, Lord Elrond's welcoming grace, or the sweet little hobbit that still slept in limbo in the healer's marquee. This was all a once-in-a-lifetime experience for her and she would never let the memories or their feelings slip away, even in the decaying days of her last years of life.

As they were almost upon the waterfall, its hum rose from the constant and soothing rush one heard in the city to the deafening roar of pummeling water. The spray from the base traveled on the fair breeze and misted their faces as they rounded about the pooling water that lead away into a steady stream. Lúthien regarded Aragorn on Nadu and Elrohir on Dagorgon as they traveled the path that would lead them under the falls. As they both disappeared into the spray, she realized quickly that there was a sort of alcove formed between the rocks of the wall that formed the falls and the actual water itself. Following them in, she let slip a small squeal of glee as the chill waters washed over her. The first thing that struck her once she'd cleared the water was the beauty of the little recess. Considering it was so close to a fall, she was surprised how dry it was inside. She was also taken by the display of shimmering light caused by the sun filtering through the dancing waters of the fall. The next thing that grabbed at her was the sound. It was a sort of muffled echo that seemed both hushed and deafening. The sound of the rushing water and clicking hooves sounded so odd in that moment that she felt the sudden intense urge to rub at her ears, as though they might be fooling her somehow. She'd never heard such resonance before. Watching as Aragorn and Elrohir shot side by side back through the waters out of the alcove, she heard Elladan and Arwen follow her in from behind. She was amused as Arwen, too, let out a little scream at the feel of the chill water. As she was about to follow Aragorn and Elrohir out, she made a promise to herself that she would come back to enjoy the beauty of this little secret some more. Then she was washed with the fall of water once more and back into the glow of midday.

Shivering slightly as the wind chilled the already cold water against her body, she was glad that the sun was so warm on her skin. Goose bumps prickled as the feeling of the warm air and hot sun mixed with the feel of cold water and cool breeze on her skin. It was a pleasurable sensation as a little shudder racked her body and her eyes fluttered in pleasure. It was moments like this that made her feel most alive. Looking up ahead, she regarded Elrohir and Aragorn. They weren't too far ahead, but Aragorn seemed to be pulling into the lead, now.

"Come now, Gilleth. We must make haste. Once we leave these open grounds, it will be near impossible to pass them."

Registering and acknowledging what Lúthien had said, Gilleth opened up in a full burst of speed. She had abandoned her run and taken up her top sprint. She now gained Dagorgon and Nadu with incredible speed. Her chest heaved and breath huffed with the effort. All the horses seemed to follow Gilleth's example as they drew closer to the final stretch of open ground, the streets of Rivindell coming within sight. Arwen, who had apparently been saving Glawenor's energy finally allowed the mare to open up. Lúthien cried out in excitement as they were almost upon Aragorn and Elrohir, now.

"Keep going, Gilleth! We can pass them." She encouraged, leaning forward in anticipation as they closed in on the leaders of the race. In no time, she pulled even with Aragorn, who had seemed to allow himself to fall back by not opening up Nadu into a sprint like the other riders. Lúthien regarded him in a warm, but challenging smile in the spirit of the race. He returned her smile with a knowing little smile of his own, seeming utterly unfazed that she was passing him. Lúthien wondered at it a moment, but put it out of her mind, deciding that perhaps he hasn't putting as much into this race as Elrohir had. Focusing on her last obstacle, she urged Gilleth on. The streets of Rivindell were almost upon them. If she did not pass the massive Dagorgon, now, there would be no chance of it once the streets narrowed. Racing with all her might, Gilleth formed a sheen of sweat on her pelt as her muzzle came within inches of Dagorgon's croup. Agonizingly, her muzzle inched up passed his flank. Then they were even. The horses sized each other up as the riders did the same.

"I'm very flattered that you have come to visit me, dear Lúthien." Elrohir charmed.

"I came by request of your sister. She would like very much for me to diminish your ego." Lúthien grinned, pulling ahead slightly.

"What ego?" Elrohir joked in mock confusion.

Lúthien only giggled as Gilleth continued to pull ahead of Dagorgon, his muzzle now at her flank. Elrohir grew very serious as he realized she may pass him, but he could do nothing. Through all his urging, Dagorgon could not run any faster. He was a strong and impressive beast, but his build was for hammering strength, not agility. His muscled body was just too wind resistant to run any faster. Gilleth was solid, but lean, and her top speed was superior to Dagorgon's. His muzzle was soon barely even with her croup, and as they reached the first street of Rivindell, Gilleth's tail whipped Dagorgon in the face as she pulled before him into the street. Now in the lead, Gilleth slowed her pace. It would be too dangerous to pass each other, now. Lúthien and Gilleth's victory was assured, and they both buzzed with excitement at the promise of victory. However, they had failed to notice as Aragorn swung wide with Nadu before turning sharply and disappearing between two buildings. They hardly noticed his swift approach until Lúthien saw him disappear and reappear repeatedly between spaces in the buildings. He was passing them from an adjacent street!

"Hurry, my friend, ride on!" Lúthien encouraged her, but Gilleth could not compete with Nadu. Her sprint had waned her strength. Lúthien could only watch in admiration as Aragorn jerked Nadu swiftly, the deft and slim stallion easily maneuvering between two buildings to pull out in front of Gilleth. Now she knew why he had not tried to push Nadu, why he had been unconcerned when she had passed him. She had a feeling he had planned that move since the very beginning. It was a brilliant play. Elrohir, inspired by Aragorn, tried the same thing. However, he had forgotten that Dagorgon was much larger than the nimble Nadu. He had to slow a great deal in order to keep from crashing into the buildings. In the end, the mistake of his decision cost him as he was passed by Arwen. Determined not to be last, he urged Dagorgon at full speed once more, remaining on the adjacent street. Almost all the riders were now in their final positions as the end of the line drew near. In first place was the clever Aragorn. Immediately behind was Lúthien. Hot on Gilleth's tail was Arwen on Glawenor. A few paces back from Arwen was Elladan, and on the adjacent street rode Elrohir.

Lúthien watched Elrohir as he pushed Dagorgon. Though his top speed was nothing impressive, the stallion's stamina was. He apparently had strength to spare as his bulging muscles flexed and constricted with each bound. He steadily crept even with Glawenor before reaching even further toward Gilleth. He had almost pulled even with her when a horrible truth dawned on Elrohir. The street he was racing on did not extend the full length of the race. It was a dead end, and that end was in sight. Having no choice, he pulled Dagorgon sharply into the space of two buildings on another adjacent street. That street did reach the same end as the path everyone else raced upon, however he was no longer visible to the others. Not knowing how far ahead or behind she was compared to Elrohir, Lúthien urged Gilleth faster. Having recovered from her previous sprint, Gilleth picked up speed to her limit. The others followed suit behind her, both Arwen and Elladan having paced their horses for the most part. Lothvalthen pulled only slightly closer to Glawenor as Gilleth drew only a short distance ahead of both. However, there was no catching Aragorn. He had known Nadu's strengths when choosing him for this race, and had used each of the stallion's natural abilities to full advantage. After all, a horse was only as good as its rider, just as a chain is only as strong as its weakest link. If a rider did not know how to handle his horse, he could very well make a proven champion fall to last place.

About 50 feet ahead, a loud cheer of excitement drew Lúthien's attention. She watched as Aragorn and Nadu flew into the open area near the stables where they had first began, ripping through a colorful streamer stretched from one end of the path to the other. Lúthien realized it must be Pippin's banner. Aragorn had won. Lúthien held her breath as she and Gilleth approached and crossed the threshold next. She released her excitement into a beaming smile as Arwen and Elladan crossed together, having pulled even as the path had broadened. Elrohir popped out from two streets down with an apprehensive expression. At first he looked hopeful, then defeated as he realized he had been last. He slowed Dagorgon's run into a trot as he approached the rest, everyone else having slowed to a stop near the stables already.

As the excited cheers died down a little, Merry's voice piped up. "The winner of the race is Strider! In second place, Lúthien. Third place is a tie between Arwen and Elladan!" He shouted, his volume belying his small size. Looking to Elrohir last, he said nothing. He didn't want to risk hurting Elrohir's feelings by announcing that he had lost the race. However, Elladan had no such qualms.

"And in dead last, our beloved Elrohir." Elladan said with an amused grin, his voice not a shout but loud enough for most to hear.

Numerous laughs rose from the crowd from those who knew that this type of taunting between the twins was typical after one had defeated the other. They loved each other without question, so none of the heckles ever dug too deeply.

"So you beat me." Elrohir said, chuckling as he trot around his brother atop Dagorgon. "It's about time. I was beginning to feel pity for you."

"Who is Strider?" Lúthien asked, leaning over toward Arwen as they listened to the twins bicker.

"Strange. Not many usually pity a victor." Elladan countered.

"Strider is Aragorn. He is a ranger, and 'Strider' is what many people know him as."

"That would make great sense since I don't know how it is to be pitied." Elrohir shot back.

"Oh." Was Lúthien's only response as she eyed Aragorn a quick moment.

"Lady Lúthien Arwen." Called a voice from her side. A bit surprised, Lúthien craned her head down to see a handsome elfin guard approaching from her side. She recognized him immediately. It was one of the guards she had met her first night in Rivindell.

"Tirithon." She spoke his name in a breath He was even more handsome in the light of day than he was in the glow of the moon.

Reaching his hand up to her, he smiled charmingly. "I am honored that you so readily recall my name, my lady. Our meeting before had been all too brief."

Not knowing exactly what to say, she let him gently wrap his arm around her waist and pull her toward himself, removing her from atop Gilleth with the same graceful strength as Gonnon had used before. Meeting his clear, sky blue eyes as he softly lowered her to her feet, she felt a rising heat build in her cheeks at the sudden close contact. Having spent time around Lord Elrond's children and their more carefree antics, she'd momentarily forgotten how intense the elves could be. Honestly, she hadn't been prepared for Tirithon. He stepped back, but his hand seemed to burn straight through her clothes and into her skin as it rested on the small of her back. His eyes were so intense that she would have looked away were they not so captivatingly beautiful. The heat from his hand and gaze seemed to spread all over, and she knew she was forming a lovely rosy blush.

"My lady," he began, "walk with me?" He requested, his tones gentle as he already began to lead her away by the hold he had on her back. She could only nod dumbly in response, allowing herself to be lead away. Still astride Glawenor in the chaos of the completed race, Arwen watched Lúthien being escorted from the stable area. She wore the same expression she had several times before when Lúthien had been in the company of an eligible bachelor. It was a good thing Lúthien was too focused on Tirithon as he spoke to notice her grin. The air suddenly smelled of wet horse and blooming romance.

Cerulean Sage

"Not much to talk about this chapter, I think. Mithrandir is how the elves call Gandalf, just in case some of you didn't already know. The horses names are basically self explanatory; Glawenor 'radiance of the morning' for the copper-rust colored mare, Lothvalthen for the cremello mare which basically means golden flower, but I'm drawing a blank on Nadu at this moment... I think it means brave or some crap like that, but don't quote me. It's almost midnight and I don't feel much like looking it up after spending a few hours writing half this chapter in one sitting.

Oh, something I definitely wanted to touch on in this chapter was Lúthien's beauty. I don't feel I adequately explained in previous chapters. When I called her 'more beautiful' than Arwen, that was a personal mistake. I personally think the girl that plays Lana Lang in the series Smallville (which is kind of how I envision Lúthien) is more beautiful than Liv Tyler. However, I'm sure many will beg to differ with that opinion to the verge of violence. Beauty is always, always (always) in the eye of the beholder, and I will refrain from referring to Lúthien as 'more beautiful' from now on. Arwen does have qualities Lúthien just doesn't like innate grace, ethereal magic in physical form, and all sorts of things like that. I used the rose analogy to try to describe it. Lúthien is beautiful enough to pass for elf, since no humans (in this time period) are as flawless. (Find a picture of your great-great grandmother and I can almost guarantee she was ugly as sin... As humans as a species overcome more and more hardship, their physical health and appearance improve greatly.) However, she does not look like an elf. An elf is an elf, just as an orc is an orc, and a dwarf is a dwarf. They have similar defining features that make them what they are.

Imagine it like this. You are in a room full of beautiful or handsome people of the opposite gender (or the same gender depending on your preference), all of which have blonde hair and brown eyes. You've been in that room for 3 days straight (and somehow managed to restrain yourself from suggesting an orgy) when someone just as beautiful walks in, but they have brown hair and blue eyes. No matter where they wander, your eyes will automatically focus because that difference will continue to catch your attention. That's sort of the same idea as Lúthien's beauty. I'm not trying to build her up to be some goddess that makes Arwen look like a hag in comparison.

Imagine it like this... you're back in the room of blondes. Everyone in that building is either blonde and beautiful or brunette and ugly. (Blondes being elves and brunettes being humans) That one beautiful brunette breaks the mold for both the blondes and brunettes. I know my analogy isn't exact, but work with me here... it's late.

Anyway, I also thought that a little love triangle type drama among the horses would be cute. I wanted to give the horses personalities, because animals do have personalities, ya know... Damn human egoists. Not to mention Gilleth needs a love interest or two. After all, she did make that deal with Lúthien many chapters ago.

Oh, and I just _had_ to make Aragorn win the race. Sorry you Mary-Sue lovers, but there was just no way I was going to let Lúthien take first place. And Lúthien didn't win second, Gilleth did. I wanted to show Aragorn's borne leadership skills through his calm tactical competence. I also made that 'weakest link' comment referring to Elrohir and Dagorgon. Elrohir chose Dagorgon simply because he's the most powerful and fantastic stallion in the stables, but Elrohir had no connection or understanding of Dagorgon's nature and abilities, and that's what cost him the race. That's exactly what made Aragorn win. He understood Nadu's strengths and weaknesses and fortified his victory by working with and around those abilities. I just feel that's important in mentioning since similar points will be brought up many times in the future in this story. Luck is only when preparation meets opportunity. Preparation was Aragorn's mind and opportunity was finding a horse that could accommodate his plans.

Anyhow, I also wanted to mention that if I get this chapter up, I may not get following chapters up according to my 'one week' policy. I've been having difficulties with my internet recently. As it stands now, I've been without a connection for several days. I apologize for this, but I will continue to write without internet. Once my situation improves, I will post more chapters according to how many weeks I may or may not be able to post. If I don't miss any weeks, I will just continue as normal. This is the week of April 23- 29, and I believe this is the week I said I would post after posting 2 chapters the previous week. One chapter was for "Lúthien" and the other was for "In The Cold" (my DBZ fic)

As always, review, review, review."


	14. Chapter 14

Lúthien gazed up at Tirithon as they passed over a short but intricately carved bridge and under the sweeping arms of a weeping willow as they crossed over a small stream. He'd just made a passing comment about the beautiful day, and honestly Lúthien couldn't agree more. The atmosphere of the elfin city as they continued to walk was nothing short of enchanting, as was his company. It was somewhat surprising that a guard, who was very likely able to kill a dangerous enemy without hesitation, had such a soft and soothing voice. She found it was far too easy to be lulled by his voice as he had to repeat a question before she realized she was being spoken to directly. She nodded to him as she mentally shook the sleepy cloud that had settled in her head away. Maybe it was more than just his company and voice. Perhaps it was the steeping tranquility of the entire city that soothed her heart and mind.

"I love it here." She responded to him honestly. He had asked if she had enjoyed her stay in Rivendell thus far. "I have come to adore everything, from the smallest tree to Lord Elrond, himself. There is a charm to this place that could heal even the most weary of hearts."

Tirithon smiled down at her with warmth and kindness. "That is why Rivendell has long been considered a refuge for those weary and oppressed with goodness in their hearts. My lady, it is the reason Rivendell first came to be. Lord Elrond created this city as a sanctuary here within the protective recess of the Misty Mountains."

Lúthien was fascinated by this information. It was no wonder she was not turned away when she first came to Rivendell. It was made for those in despair, those with no where to turn. More than ever, she admired the goodness of Lord Elrond's heart. They walked on and Tirithon continued to tell Lúthien of Rivendell's history, eventually telling her a little of Lord Elrond's history as well. It was hard to talk about one without speaking about the other. Lúthien could not deny that the Lord's history was as confusing as it was long. It was filled with people and places she'd never heard of before, and his tale was impossible to fully comprehend unless you knew well of all the people and places in it. However, she was content to listen and learn even a little more about the man she came to admire. Something that did peak her interest was to learn that Lúthien, the elf maiden she was named after, was Lord Elrond's great grandmother. She knew he was a descendant, but had not thought he was that closely related to the Lúthien of legend. It was almost like knowing somewhere beyond a river grew a rare flower, then crossing the river and stumbling over tree roots to find the flower growing in the shadow of that tree. In your mind, you had believed the journey would be much farther.

She could suppose that her confusion was due to the long lives of elves. In one generation could pass many thousands of years. The idea that Lúthien's life had passed uncountable centuries ago was indeed true, but the fact that her great grandson still lived in excellent health only served to remind her of her differences when compared to the elves. She'd never seen her grandparents. They'd all passed before she'd even been born into the world. She'd been thinking on all of this when a familiar building brought her abruptly from her musings. Tirithon led her through the ivy covered archway that marked the path to the front entrance as she turned to question him.

"Tirithon, why have you brought me here?" She asked as they approached the front door, which had already been opened by a familiar face.

"My lady, Lord Elrond has called for you." He spoke, nodding a greeting to the lady holding open the well made front door of Lord Elrond's home.

Lúthien looked surprised for a moment, wondering what possible reasons Lord Elrond could have to call her to his home once again. "Do you know why?" She asked, looking up into Tirithon's handsome face and brilliant blue eyes.

He simply shook his head as they stopped at the door beside the fine elfin lady that continued to hold the door. "That, I cannot tell you, my lady. I know only that he request your company." He said, releasing his hand from her back and taking her hand in his to his lips, gracing a chivalrous kiss upon her knuckles. She flushed faintly at the gesture and he simply smiled as he spoke again. "Again, our meeting as been all too brief. I must leave you, now. Lady Siriowen will see you to Lord Elrond." Lúthien could only nod dumbly as before, the tingle of his kiss still lingering on her hand. "Perhaps we will cross paths again soon." He suggested, stepping back as he prepared to take his leave.

Lúthien smiled and nodded more vigorously. "Perhaps." She replied, her smile brightening her features as she watched him turn and begin to walk away.

"It is good to see you once again, Lady Lúthien Arwen." Lady Siriowen said with a smile, causing Lúthien to turn her attention as she was led into the home by a delicate hand on her upper arm.

Lúthien's bright smile was then offered to the lovely elfin lady as she was guided through the halls. "As it is wonderful to see you again, Lady Siriowen." She paused. "Tell me, would you know why Lord Elrond would seek me out?"

Lady Siriowen smiled down at Lúthien in a motherly fashion. "Though I am not obliged to say, I do believe it has something to do with Gandalf the Grey."

Lúthien immediately perked. "You say Gandalf the Grey? Is he here?" She questioned eagerly, barely keeping the butterflies rising in her abdomen in check.

Lady Siriowen simply chuckled at Lúthien's anticipation before nodding. "Yes. I am to bring you to Lord Elrond's study. They were waiting on you there."

Lúthien's apprehension doubled. "They are waiting for me? Do you know what about?" She asked, her brows furrowing in worry.

Lady Siriowen's hand tightened comfortingly on Lúthien's upper arm as she gave her a sad, but reassuring smile. "That, I cannot say. I know not the nature of this meeting."

Nodding in response, Lúthien accepted the fact that no one could tell her why she was sent for other than the Lord himself. At least she now knew it had to do with Gandalf the Grey, but she still had no idea what awaited her. She knew nothing about the man named Gandalf, other than the fact that she'd heard his name as a whisper in a dream that caused her to seek him out. In a thought, she was chasing a phantom. Now that she was about to face that phantom, the reality of it finally struck her and she began to question herself. What if she had misinterpreted her dream? What if she was really to go to Rivendell and warn them against the one named Gandalf? The urge to run struck her heavily as Lady Siriowen stopped her before a solid oak door carved with trumpet flowers and vines. Lady Siriowenknocked, and astern voice called for them to enter. Before Lúthien could stow her fears, she was led inside. Lady Siriowen did not enter with her.

As the door was closed behind her and she found herself left alone, she took in the cozy atmosphere of Lord Elrond's study. Towering all around her were shelves upon rows of books and scrolls. Maps of Middle Earth colored the walls, and Lúthien's mouth went unchecked as it fell open in wonder. Holding books upright and in place were intricately carved statuettes sitting at the end of incomplete rows of books. Other, larger carvings littered the room. Some were large enough to stand on their own as a centerpiece. One that caught her immediate attention was that of a warrior in full battle garb astride a rearing stallion also donned with battle armor. The attention to detail in the expression alone was enough to make one believe they could almost read the warrior's mind as he was about to forge into battle. Reaching out, she traced along the lines and folds of the polished stone, suddenly wondering not only how it was carved to expertly, but also how it was brought there. It looked to be incredibly heavy. So intent on the furnishings of Lord Elrond's study was she that she jumped and almost squeaked in alarm as a voice called out to her.

"Lady Lúthien Arwen, we are over here."

Acknowledging the voice, she followed it with restrained curiosity. Maneuvering her way through the veritable maze of bookshelves, she rounded into an open area. She openly awed at the plush furniture set before a beautifully crafted fireplace and mantle. She'd never seen padded chairs before. Before the fire rested a padded bench seat she would later learn to be called a 'sofa'. On that seat sat Lord Elrond and another. She recognized him immediately from earlier that day and heard in her mind Elrohir call out his name.

"Mithrandir..." She whispered, her shock complete. This was the hunched old man that had nearly been run over in today's race. Surely he could not be the Gandalf she saught...

Both men standing to greet her properly, the old man gave her a merry smile. "Ah, so you've heard of me." He spoke, his voice a plethora of warmth and kindness. "I dare say you should believe none of what you hear and only half of what you see, young lady." He joked.

Lúthien just stared in a whirlwind of emotions. Would this rickety old man bring her the answers she was seeking? "Are you," she began, hesitant to ask lest she make herself a fool. She tried again. "Are you Gandalf?"

Gandalf just chuckled warmly. "Indeed, I am. And would you be the lovely Lúthien Arwen?" He asked, his good nature comforting her as much as she could be at the moment. She was terribly lost. She had no idea where to begin speaking to this elderly stranger, and no inkling other than her strange dream that he could even help her.

"I have been speaking to Gandalf about what you have told me thus far, Lady Lúthien, and he is most intrigued." Lord Elrond spoke, solving her momentary dilemma for her. "We would both like to hear more about these strange experiences of yours. Please, take a seat." Lord Elrond encouraged, gesturing to a padded chair set close to the sofa. She took the seat before them and looked from one to the other with slight anxiety. Would they finally be able to tell her what it all meant? Would it be an answer that she wanted to know?

"Please, start from the beginning." Gandalf encouraged.

Lúthien took a deep breath and began to recall her tale from the day she and her parents fled from their home. However, before she could begin to describe the riders, Gandalf cut her short.

"Young Lúthien, please start from the very beginning. Start with your earliest childhood memories, and what your parents have told you from when you were too young to remember."

Lúthien now understood. He wanted her whole life's story, not just what led her to Rivendell in search of him. Taking another breath, she started again, beginning with her parents' struggle to bear a child and ending with her arrival in Rivendell. She told of her youth and knowing from an early age that she was very different from other children. She told of her parent's high regard for elves and the respect for them she was raised with. She told of her favor in her village for healing people, plants, and animals. She tried to explain her understanding for animals, how she could know their thoughts, and at times almost swear she could hear them speak. There were times she could hear her name clear as day to the point that she would respond before looking to see who had called her. Many times, there had been no one around but creatures of the forests or her horses in the stables. Sometimes she thought she might imagine it all, sometimes even hoped it. Her parents had worried for her when she'd told them about the voices calling her name. They'd thought either that she was being pursued by those with ill intent or her mind was faltering. She had stopped telling them after that, and they'd passed it off as simple childhood imagination.

She told them about how she feels. She explained how when someone is ill with something she's never experienced before, she somehow knows the thing that will help. She told how it's not real knowledge that leads her, but a form of intuition. She explained about the feelings of fear she experiences when danger is near. She told of her dreams, the horrible creatures, the golden ring, and the horrible flaming eye. She spoke about the pain she felt from her dreams and even the time when a reoccurring dream of the flaming eye would not release her, and how she was pulled from the dream by Gilleth to find herself in blood that did not seem to be hers. She finished by explaining to Gandalf that it was in her dreams that she learned his name and that she should seek him in Rivendell. After she had stopped speaking and her throat was slightly hoarse, Lord Elrond and Gandalf looked at each other seriously. They began to converse with each other in Elvish, and Lúthien was disheartened to wait in the dark about their thoughts and feelings until they finished. However, she had no choice. She desperately needed answers, so she was compelled to sit and wait.

"_What would you make of such abnormal abilities, Mithrandir?"_Lord Elrond asked, eyeing over the old man seriously. He had his suspicions, however he wanted Gandalf's opinion, first.

Gandal stroked his bearded chin as if in deep contemplation. _"It would seem to me the work of magic."_

Lord Elrond nodded. _"I had suspected as much. I must speak with my daughter concerning this matter. I have a feeling Lúthien's current predicament has much do to with Arwen's actions some twenty years ago." _He spoke seriously, glancing at the lovely young girl that regarded him with nervous anticipation.

"_So you believe Arwen has enchanted Lúthien, then?" _Gandalf asked casually, easily believing that this human girl could have been charmed by elfin magic.

Lord Elrond squared a gaze upon Gandalf that left no question he was very certain of what he was about to say. _"More than that, Mithrandir. If my suspicions are confirmed, Arwen may have done more than simply enchanted her. She very well could have gifted her with our magic. By the blood of the very lineage whose name she bears, Lúthien may be blessed."_

"_You think her legacy flows that deeply still within Arwen?"_ Gandalf asked casting his scrutinizing gaze from Lord Elrond to Lúthien and back again.

"_I am sure as the sunrise." _Lord Elrond responded somberly, turning with Gandalf to look at the subject of their conversation.

"_What should we tell her?"_ Gandalf asked, nothing how Lúthien squirmed nervously under their duel gaze.

"_Nothing."_ Lord Elrond replied, earning him a raised brow from Gandalf. _"First, let me speak with Arwen. Then, we decide from there."_

Gandalf nodded, acknowledging Lord Elrond's words. He hoped that this meeting would not take a great while longer. He had spared only a fleeting moment for the young, comatose Hobbit thus far before the Lord had called for his audience. He had failed him at the Prancing Pony. He owed it to the young lad to stay vigil at his side until he finally awoke. His heart still ached for poor Frodo.

_Cerulean Sage_

"_Well that's another complete chapter of Lúthien. Don't know what to say about this chapter except that the odd circumstance surrounding Lúthien are finally starting to come together. Now her strange abilities will start to make more sense. Also, yes... Lúthien (the original Lúthien ) is indeed Lord Elrond's great grandmother. Lord Elrond was borne of Elwig, who was borne of Doir Eluchíl, who was borne of_ _Lúthien. Contradict this and I'll slap you with about 6 pages of information that will prove my case. Also, there's a reason I switch from calling Gandalf to Mithrandir. When the elves speak to him or of him, he is Mithrandir, unless they are speaking to Lúthien about him. In Westeron, his name is Gandalf the Grey. In Elvish, it is Mithrandir, which means 'the grey wanderer'. Lúthien speaks Westeron, so they refer to his Westeron name when speaking to her. Hope you all enjoy. NOW REVIEW! It's a shame that out of **over 1** **thousand hits** on my story, I have **only 26 reviews**."_


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